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 with differing baits and bright lights.

She went down stairs thinking deeply.  Being unable to sit still and having nothing else to do she glanced at the clock and began preparing supper.  The work dragged.  A chicken was snatched up and dressed hurriedly.  A spice cake sprang into being.  Strawberries that had been intended for preserves went into shortcake.  Delicious odours crept from the cabin.  She put many extra touches on the table and then commenced watching the road.  Everything was ready, but Elnora did not come.  Then began the anxious process of trying to keep cooked food warm and not spoil it.  The birds went to bed and dusk came.  Mrs. Comstock gave up the fire and set the supper on the table.  Then she went out and sat on the front-door step watching night creep around her.  She started eagerly as the gate creaked, but it was only Wesley Sinton coming.

“Katharine, Margaret and Elnora passed where I was working this afternoon, and Margaret got out of the carriage and called me to the fence.  She told me what she had done.  I’ve come to say to you that I am sorry.  She has heard me threaten to do it a good many times, but I never would have got it done.  I’d give a good deal if I could undo it, but I can’t, so I’ve come to tell you how sorry I am.”