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But Mrs. Bennett wasn’t blaming any one; she didn’t really know what the excitement was all about. The door opened on a smiling little face, though she tried to keep in the shadow. Still when Billy kissed his mother good-night, caught his sister in his arms and raced up and down with her, singing extravagantly a snatch from some opera, May Nell hid her face and cried again. “I don’t give two whoops ef he does,” Betty was bubbling with suppressed mirth..
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Many times she had seen Mrs. Bennett transplant the garden flowers, had helped; now she put all her lore to use. Patiently she toiled with brittle sticks and pointed stones till the vine was replanted against the rude walls; emptied the dinner pail and trudged back and forth to the river several times for water, to wet the earth above the roots; and patted it down with muddy little hands. “Let me go, please!” he pleaded. “There’s a little girl, our refugee, over there, fainted, I think, perhaps—dead.” “We’ll have to go and tell Ma,” said Maria. BILLY did not lift his face from the pillow; he was striving to steady throat and voice..
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