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CHAPTER XIV IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE “And I’m always going to be your little girl, too,” the child pleaded; “so Billy must be my papa’s little boy.” The pianist took a long look at Nell who had been visibly affected by his playing. Misgivings that date back to Eden were leaping into life in his breast. He had been in love more times than he could count, but here was the girl after all. He began a Scherzo of his own composition. Youth gathering flowers at the open mouth of a volcano. The melody was born to live forever. He was a genius. Now Nell knew it and her soul worshipped genius. Howard Eliot was far from her thoughts as she listened to the enchanting chain of melodies that poured forth..
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“Won’t you sing something else, Mrs. Wopp.” Nell was growing uncomfortable under Betty’s reference to the unburnished state of her cloud. “You must ’scuse me not goin’ to meet you, Miss Gordon,” apologized Mr. Wopp, as he held suspended a knife full of mashed potato, destined for his mouth. “But I hev a sick cow I couldn’t git away from, so I ast Howard here to drive in fer you.” “All ready?” cried Captain Billy. “Are you ready, Ladybird?” “WILLIAM TELL..
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