She was too weary now to do more, but an urging unrest drove her. She
wanted Elnora. It seemed to her she never could wait until the girl came
and delivered her judgment. At last in an effort to get nearer to her,
Mrs. Comstock climbed the stairs and stood looking around Elnora's room.
It was very unfamiliar. The pictures were strange to her. Commencement
had filled it with packages and bundles. The walls were covered with
cocoons; moths and dragonflies were pinned everywhere. Under the bed she
could see half a dozen large white boxes. She pulled out one and lifted
the lid. The bottom was covered with a sheet of thin cork, and on
long pins sticking in it were large, velvet-winged moths. Each one was
labelled, always there were two of a kind, in many cases four, showing
under and upper wings of both male and female. They were of every colour
and shape.

Mrs. Comstock caught her breath sharply. When and where had Elnora found
them? They were the most exquisite sight the woman ever had seen, so she
opened all the boxes to feast on their beautiful contents. As she did so
there came more fully a sense of the distance between her and her child.
She could not understand how Elnora had gone to school, and performed
so much work secretly. When it was finished, to the last moth, she, the
mother who should have been the first confidant and helper, had been the
one to bring disappointment. Small wonder Elnora had come to hate her.

Mrs. Comstock carefully closed and replaced the boxes; and again stood
looking around the room. This time her eyes rested on some books she did
not remember having seen before, so she picked up one and found that it
was a moth book. She glanced over the first pages and was soon eagerly
reading. When the text reached the classification of species, she laid
it down, took up another and read the introductory chapters. By that
time her brain was in a confused jumble of ideas about capturing moths