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The broad shaft of sunlight that flooded the dining-room where Nell Gordon sat was suddenly darkened. Looking up she saw the tall straight figure of Howard Eliot at the doorway. “Ten? You won’t think of playing with us, then. Ma thought you’d be just our age.” As she went about her work, Betty’s braids of fair hair tied with wisps of faded red ribbon stood out stiffly from her head. Her eyebrows were not quite grown in yet and she presented a comical appearance blinking in the sun as she regarded Moses who was helping her..

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On such visits Mrs. Wopp enjoyed herself hugely. Her volubility was overpowering; as Mrs. Mifsud had been known to remark, “Not even a comma was there to clutch at to make good ones escape.” The faster her needle flew the faster raced her tongue. In view of the impending visit Mrs. Mifsud had surreptitiously stuffed one ear with cotton batting so that in the event of an extremely sanguinary onslaught, so to speak, at least one rampart of defence could be instantaneously thrown up. Ebenezer Wopp unlike his wife was expecting nothing but an afternoon of self-effacement though prepared to secretly admire to the full Mrs. Wopp’s sprightly conversation. “The strife is o’er, the battle done,” recommended Mrs. Wopp without hesitation. As Maria could not be persuaded to approach the organ the singing was lustily led by Mrs. Wopp and under her able leadership maintained the most vigorous proportions. As he came into the main road a rosy, wholesome looking girl was flying by. “Hello, Jean!” he called after her; “that’s going some—for a girl.” “Orl right, you rascalashus coaxer, an’ go make some tea an’ fetch some crackers an’ cheese an’ we’ll orl hev a bite.”.