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Her anxiety somewhat allayed for the moment, Mrs. Mifsud roused herself for the entertainment of her guests.,“What is the matter with your hand?” May Nell asked as she drew the work-worn hand down and patted it. “It doesn’t feel like my mama’s. And you have only one ring, a plain one. Are your others in the bank? My mama has ever so many,—diamonds, rubies, and such a big sapphire, perfectly exquisite! And they look elegant on her hand,—she has a perfectly beautiful hand.”,“Why, Billy? I don’t believe in whipping unless all else fails.”,“Feel that muscle,” he said a moment later; bending his arm, and pressing her fingers to it. “That’s got to grow by a broom or hoe, something besides football!”,“Don’t tell—must Edith and May Nell know?” he called after her. “Oh, all the town will—mother!” The anguish in his words halted her. “Mother, this wasn’t a boys’ scrap at all. I didn’t think of you or—or anything; an’ something must have squelched Betsey, she never peeped. Mother, I felt—I felt mad enough to kill him!” He whispered the awesome words.,The magic name won the day. Bess was ever dreaming of the land of mystery, whose pictured daughters of old she resembled; and the chance to masquerade in its atmosphere lured her.,“Yeh, Mar says I’m a reglar jographer I like it so much.”,May Nell looked incredulous. “And they feed her strawberries and vanilla beans and chocolate for flavors, I suppose; but how do you separate them when you milk? Will you show me the next time you fill that big bucket?” She nodded her head toward the freezer, and was so demure that not even Bess, still less Jimmy, knew whether she was deceived or poking fun.,“I sorter hoped Moses’d take arter Uncle Josh, too,” she said, regretfully.,He tidied himself, bade his mother good-bye, and followed the girls to rehearsal.,Mr. Patton, who “placed” the refugees, was glad of Billy’s request, for the child’s struggle for self-control had touched him; and he knew no one would be a kinder mother to her than Mrs. Bennett.,“Gosh! Wisht Betty was here right this minute. Mebbe I’m dyin’. Hope nobody starts twangin’ a harp. My nose is worser’n ever!”.