Mrs. Comstock entered dragging her heavy feet.
Her dress skirt was gone, her petticoat wet and drabbled,
and the waist of her dress was almost torn from her
body. Her hair hung in damp strings; her eyes
were red with crying. In one hand she held the
lantern, and in the other stiffly extended before
her, on a wad of calico reposed a magnificent pair
of Yellow Emperors. Elnora stared, her lips parted.
“Shall I put these others in the kitchen?”
inquired a man’s voice.
The girl shrank back to the shadows.
“Yes, anywhere inside the door,” replied
Mrs. Comstock as she moved a few steps to make way
for him. Pete’s head appeared. He set
down the moths and was gone.
“Thank you, Pete, more than ever woman thanked
you before!” said Mrs. Comstock.
She placed the lantern on the table and barred the
door. As she turned Elnora came into view.
Mrs. Comstock leaned toward her, and held out the
moths. In a voice vibrant with tones never before
heard she said: “Elnora, my girl, mother’s
found you another moth!”
WHEREIN MOTHER LOVE IS BESTOWED ON ELNORA, AND SHE FINDS AN ASSISTANT IN
MOTH HUNTING
Elnora awoke at dawn and lay gazing around the unfamiliar
room. She noticed that every vestige of masculine
attire and belongings was gone, and knew, without
any explanation, what that meant. For some reason
every tangible evidence of her father was banished,
and she was at last to be allowed to take his place.
She turned to look at her mother. Mrs. Comstock’s
face was white and haggard, but on it rested an expression
of profound peace Elnora never before had seen.
As she studied the features on the pillow beside her,
the heart of the girl throbbed in tenderness.
She realized as fully as any one else could what her
mother had suffered. Thoughts of the night brought
shuddering fear. She softly slipped from the
bed, went to her room, dressed and entered the kitchen
to attend the Emperors and prepare breakfast.
The pair had been left clinging to the piece of calico.
The calico was there and a few pieces of beautiful
wing. A mouse had eaten the moths!
“Well, of all the horrible luck!” gasped
Elnora.
With the first thought of her mother, she caught up
the remnants of the moths, burying them in the ashes
of the stove. She took the bag to her room, hurriedly
releasing its contents, but there was not another yellow
one. Her mother had said some had been confined
in the case in the Limberlost. There was still
a hope that an Emperor might be among them. She
peeped at her mother, who still slept soundly.
Elnora took a large piece of mosquito netting, and
ran to the swamp. Throwing it over the top of
the case, she unlocked the door. She reeled,
faint with distress. The living moths that had
been confined there in their fluttering to escape
to night and the mates they sought not only had wrecked
the other specimens of the case, but torn themselves
to fringes on the pins. A third of the rarest
moths of the collection for the man of India were
antennaless, legless, wingless, and often headless.
Elnora sobbed aloud.
