Only just now it's come to me that the distinctive feature of
February is not linen bleaching, nor sugar making; it's the love month
of our very own birds. Give them hawks and owls for February, Elnora."
With flashing eyes the girl looked at Philip. "How's that?" she said.
"Don't you think I will succeed, with such help? You should hear the
concert she is talking about! It is simply indescribable when the ground
is covered with snow, and the moonlight white."
"It's about the best music we have," said Mrs. Comstock. "I wonder if
you couldn't copy that and make a strong, original piece out of it for
your violin, Elnora?"
There was one tense breath, then---- "I could try," said Elnora simply.
Philip rushed to the rescue. "We must go to work," he said, and began
examining a walnut branch for Luna moth eggs. Elnora joined him while
Mrs. Comstock drew her embroidery from her pocket and sat on a log. She
said she was tired, they could come for her when they were ready to go.
She could hear their voices around her until she called them at supper
time. When they came to her she stood waiting on the trail, the sewing
in one hand, the violin in the other. Elnora became very white, but
followed the trail without a word. Philip, unable to see a woman carry
a heavier load than he, reached for the instrument. Mrs. Comstock shook
her head. She carried the violin home, took it into her room and closed
the door. Elnora turned to Philip.
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