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Mrs. Wopp’s bonnet with its imitation osprey looked as though adorned with fragments of barbed-wire. Her jet earrings seemed entirely superfluous as the lobes of her generous ears glowed like rubies. Vigorously all joined in the closing hymn and Mrs. Wopp’s high soprano could be heard above all the other voices. A sense of duty well performed added even greater power to the vocal billowing. Now the dance was a two-step and Mrs. Wopp, who drew a hard and fast line at round dances, declaring they were instigated by the evil one, sat and looked on talking to Betty meanwhile..

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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. “Ugh! Confound their impudence, I’ll make them listen yet to something else than rag.” She shook her head. Just then he saw a wagon in the distance rounding the curve of the mountain. This was his minute. He must get her before that team passed. Then if any one attempted to prevent him he would have help. He turned back to May Nell..