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“Billy, you’re a wise guy. This beats Maskey’s,” Harold declared. In the very centre of the room stood a small table swathed in a hand-painted felt drape. On this reposed the huge family Bible in which was chronicled the marriages, births and deaths of the Wopp family during the last three generations. When brother and sister left her, strange thoughts flitted through her head. She heard Mrs. Bennett beating eggs in the kitchen; saw the logs Billy had piled in the wood-box. On the wall above the piano hung Edith’s schedule—time table, Billy called it. May Nell had already studied it, had seen the fifty or more lessons set for each week; and needlework on the music table, and books there the child had discovered were for music study,—these told her what a busy woman Billy’s sister must be..
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She took the child in her comforting arms. “Don’t cry, little one! We shall find her, never fear.” He arrived home Monday evening, and was received as though a visit of several months’ duration had torn him from the bosom of the family. Several ladies of the district were already busy “scttin’ up” the quilt when Mrs. Wopp and her satellites entered the Mifsud parlor. “And you’re my Ladybird sister,” Billy said, very softly for him, and threw his arm about them both..
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