“That would be likely to prejudice one,” laughed Elnora.

“Edith has a birthday soon; if these last will you let me have a box of them to send her?”

“I will help gather and pack them for you, so they will carry nicely.  Does she hunt moths with you?”

Back went Philip Ammon’s head in a gale of laughter.

“No!” he cried.  “She says they are ‘creepy.’  She would go into a spasm if she were compelled to touch those caterpillars I saw you handling yesterday.”

“Why would she?” marvelled Elnora.  “Haven’t you told her that they are perfectly clean, helpless, and harmless as so much animate velvet?”

“No, I have not told her.  She wouldn’t care enough about caterpillars to listen.”

“In what is she interested?”

“What interests Edith Carr?  Let me think!  First, I believe she takes pride in being a little handsomer and better dressed than any girl of her set.  She is interested in having a beautiful home, fine appointments, in being petted, praised, and the acknowledged leader of society.

“She likes to find new things which amuse her, and to always and in all circumstances have her own way about everything.”

“Good gracious!” cried Elnora, staring at him.  “But what does she do?  How does she spend her time?”

“Spend her time!” repeated Philip.  “Well, she would call that a joke.  Her days are never long enough.  There is endless shopping, to find the pretty things; regular visits to the dressmakers, calls, parties, theatres, entertainments.  She is always rushed.  I never am able to be with her half as much as I would like.”

“But I mean work,” persisted Elnora.  “In what is she interested that is useful to the world?”

“Me!” cried Philip promptly.

“I can understand that,” laughed Elnora.  “What I can’t understand is how you can be in——­” She stopped in confusion, but she saw that he had finished the sentence as she had intended.  “I beg your pardon!” she cried.  “I didn’t intend to say that.  But I cannot understand these people I hear about who live only for their own amusement.  Perhaps it is very great; I’ll never have a chance to know.  To me, it seems the only pleasure in this world worth having is the joy we derive from living for those we love, and those we can help.  I hope you are not angry with me.”

Philip sat silently looking far away, with deep thought in his eyes.

“You are angry,” faltered Elnora.

His look came back to her as she knelt before him among the flowers and he gazed at her steadily.

“No doubt I should be,” he said, “but the fact is I am not.  I cannot understand a life purely for personal pleasure myself.  But she is only a girl, and this is her playtime.  When she is a woman in her own home, then she will be different, will she not?”

Elnora never resembled her mother so closely as when she answered that question.