Comstock felt very certain was his violin. But that little
crawling creature of earth, crushed by her before its splendid yellow
and lavender wings could spread and carry it into the mystery of night,
had performed a miracle.
"We are nearer strangers to each other than we are with any of the
neighbours," she muttered.
So one of the Almighty's most delicate and beautiful creations was
sacrificed without fulfilling the law, yet none of its species ever
served so glorious a cause, for at last Mrs. Comstock's inner vision had
cleared. She went through the cabin mechanically. Every few minutes
she glanced toward the back walk to see if Elnora were coming. She knew
arrangements had been made with Margaret to go to the city some time
that day, so she grew more nervous and uneasy every moment. She was
haunted by the fear that the blow might discolour Elnora's cheek; that
she would tell Margaret. She went down the back walk, looking intently
in all directions, left the garden and followed the swamp path. Her step
was noiseless on the soft, black earth, and soon she came close enough
to see Elnora. Mrs. Comstock stood looking at the girl in troubled
uncertainty. Not knowing what to say, at last she turned and went back
to the cabin.
Noon came and she prepared dinner, calling, as she always did, when
Elnora was in the garden, but she got no response, and the girl did not
come. A little after one o'clock Margaret stopped at the gate.
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