Comstock understood. Philip set his
load at the back door, returning to hold open the garden gate for Elnora
and Mrs. Comstock. He reached it in time to see them standing together
beside the pool. The mother bent swiftly and kissed the girl on the
lips. Philip turned and was busily hunting moths on the raspberry
bushes when they reached the gate. And so excellent are the rewards of
attending your own business, that he found a Promethea on a lilac in a
corner; a moth of such rare wine-coloured, velvety shades that it almost
sent Mrs. Comstock to her knees again. But this one was fully developed,
able to fly, and had to be taken into the cabin hurriedly. Mrs. Comstock
stood in the middle of the room holding up her Regalis.
"Now what must I do?" she asked.
Elnora glanced at Philip Ammon. Their eyes met and both of them smiled;
he with amusement at the tall, spare figure, with dark eyes and white
crown, asking the childish question so confidingly; and Elnora with
pride. She was beginning to appreciate the character of her mother.
"How would you like to sit and see her finish development? I'll get
dinner," proposed the girl.
After they had dined, Philip and Elnora carried the dishes to the
kitchen, brought out boxes, sheets of cork, pins, ink, paper slips and
everything necessary for mounting and classifying the moths they had
taken. When the housework was finished Mrs. Comstock with her ruffle
sat near, watching and listening.
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