her collection; now she had been forced to see a splendid Imperialis
destroyed before her. There was a possibility that she could find
another, but she was facing the certainty that the one she might have
had and with which she undoubtedly could have attracted others, was
spoiled by her mother. How long she sat there Elnora did not know or
care. She simply suffered in dumb, abject misery, an occasional dry sob
shaking her. Aunt Margaret was right. Elnora felt that morning that
her mother never would be any different. The girl had reached the place
where she realized that she could endure it no longer.

As Elnora left the room, Mrs. Comstock took one step after her.

"You little huzzy!" she gasped.

But Elnora was gone. Her mother stood staring.

"She never did lie to me," she muttered. "I guess it was a moth. And
the only one she needed to get three hundred dollars, she said. I wish I
hadn't been so fast! I never saw anything like it. I thought it was some
deadly, stinging, biting thing. A body does have to be mighty careful
here. But likely I've spilt the milk now. Pshaw! She can find another!
There's no use to be foolish. Maybe moths are like snakes, where there's
one, there are two."

Mrs. Comstock took the broom and swept the moth out of the door. Then
she got down on her knees and carefully examined the steps, logs and
the earth of the flower beds at each side. She found the place where
the creature had emerged from the ground, and the hard, dark-brown case
which had enclosed it, still wet inside. Then she knew Elnora had been
right. It was a moth. Its wings had been damp and not expanded. Mrs.