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The frenzied cries of the child were distinctly audible in the kitchen where sat Mrs. Mifsud and Mrs. Wopp, the latter busily engaged in mending a pile of socks. Both ladies sprang to their feet and hurried through the open door towards the garden, Mrs. Wopp still wearing a half-darned sock on her left hand and scattering others as she ran. They were followed by Betty, who had been filling her watering-can from the rain-barrel and had also heard the cries of the frightened child. “Do you like to work?” His tone was insistent; and he lifted his head and looked hard at her, as if to challenge the tiniest bit of insincerity that might be lurking back of the words. “Like to work?” he repeated with added emphasis. Mrs. Bennett called. The cats walked leisurely to the hearth, sat down, one on either side, and began to eat, each from his own side of the plate. They were as deliberate and dainty as well-bred children..

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“You don’t catch Billy asleep,” said George, siding with the victorious. Evelyn relieved of her fear of the tottering kettle, roused to her charge. “Go ’way, Billy! Thank you, Billy. You mustn’t stay here! They’ll scold me. They said for me not to let you come; an’—” He kept his hands from hers, and begged her not to touch the handkerchief he had bound around his head; but before his story was finished, a growing stain on the pillow had oozed into sight. “What is Betty like?”.