He had forgotten the violets!  Elnora stood looking after him, a curious expression on her face.  One second so—­then she picked up the net and followed.  At the blue-bordered pool she paused and half turned back, then she closed her lips firmly and went on.  It was nine o’clock when Philip said good-bye, and started to town.  His gay whistle floated to them from the farthest corner of the Limberlost.  Elnora complained of being tired, so she went to her room and to bed.  But sleep would not come.  Thought was racing in her brain and the longer she lay the wider awake she grew.  At last she softly slipped from bed, lighted her lamp and began opening boxes.  Then she went to work.  Two hours later a beautiful birch bark basket, strongly and artistically made, stood on her table.  She set a tiny alarm clock at three, returned to bed and fell asleep instantly with a smile on her lips.

She was on the floor with the first tinkle of the alarm, and hastily dressing, she picked up the basket and a box to fit it, crept down the stairs, and out to the violet patch.  She was unafraid as it was growing light, and lining the basket with damp mosses she swiftly began picking, with practised hands, the best of the flowers.  She scarcely could tell which were freshest at times, but day soon came creeping over the Limberlost and peeped at her.  The robins awoke all their neighbours, and a babel of bird notes filled the air.  The dew was dripping, while the first strong rays of light fell on a world in which Elnora worshipped.  When the basket was filled to overflowing, she set it in the stout pasteboard box, packed it solid with mosses, tied it firmly and slipped under the cord a note she had written the previous night.

Then she took a short cut across the woods and walked swiftly to Onabasha.  It was after six o’clock, but all of the city she wished to avoid were asleep.  She had no trouble in finding a small boy out, and she stood at a distance waiting while he rang Dr. Ammon’s bell and delivered the package for Philip to a maid, with the note which was to be given him at once.

On the way home through the woods passing some baited trees she collected the captive moths.  She entered the kitchen with them so naturally that Mrs. Comstock made no comment.  After breakfast Elnora went to her room, cleared away all trace of the night’s work and was out in the arbour mounting moths when Philip came down the road.  “I am tired sitting,” she said to her mother.  “I think I will walk a few rods and meet him.”

“Who’s a trump?” he called from afar.

“Not you!” retorted Elnora.  “Confess that you forgot!”

“Completely!” said Philip.  “But luckily it would not have been fatal.  I wrote Polly last week to send Edith something appropriate to-day, with my card.  But that touch from the woods will be very effective.  Thank you more than I can say.  Aunt Anna and I unpacked it to see the basket, and it was a beauty.  She says you are always doing such things.”