"If she destroys that, I shall die!" cried the girl.
"She won't!" said Philip. "You misunderstand her. She wouldn't have said
what she did about the owls, if she had meant to. She is your mother.
No one loves you as she does. Trust her! Myself--I think she's simply
great!"
Mrs. Comstock returned with serene face, and all of them helped with
the supper. When it was over Philip and Elnora sorted and classified the
afternoon's specimens, and made a trip to the woods to paint and light
several trees for moths. When they came back Mrs. Comstock sat in the
arbour, and they joined her. The moonlight was so intense, print could
have been read by it. The damp night air held odours near to earth,
making flower and tree perfume strong. A thousand insects were
serenading, and in the maple the grosbeak occasionally said a reassuring
word to his wife, while she answered that all was well. A whip-poor-will
wailed in the swamp and beside the blue-bordered pool a chat complained
disconsolately. Mrs. Comstock went into the cabin, but she returned
immediately, laying the violin and bow across Elnora's lap. "I wish you
would give us a little music," she said.
CHAPTER XVII
WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK DANCES IN THE MOONLIGHT, AND ELNORA MAKES A
CONFESSION
Billy was swinging in the hammock, at peace with himself and all the
world, when he thought he heard something. He sat bolt upright, his eyes
staring. Once he opened his lips, then thought again and closed them.
Pages:
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307