ging, 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.
Comstock never before had seen one in that state, and she did not know
how they originated. She had thought all of them came from cases spun on
trees or against walls or boards. She had seen only enough to know that
there were such things; as a flash of white told her that an ermine was
on her premises, or a sharp "buzzzzz" warned her of a rattler.

So it was from creatures like that Elnora had secured her school money.
In one sickening sweep there rushed into the heart of the woman a full
realization of the width of the gulf that separated her from her child.
Lately many things had pointed toward it, none more plainly than when
Elnora, like a reincarnation of her father, had stood fearlessly before
a large city audience and played with even greater skill than he, on
what Mrs. Comstock felt very certain was his violin. But that little
crawling creature of earth, crushed by her before its splendid yellow
and lavender wings could spread and carry it into the mystery of night,
had performed a miracle.

"We are nearer strangers to each other than we are with any of the
neighbours," she muttered.

So one of the Almighty's most delicate and beautiful creations was
sacrificed without fulfilling the law, yet none of its species ever
served so glorious a cause, for at last Mrs. Comstock's inner vision had
cleared. She went through the cabin mechanically. Every few minutes
she glanced toward the back walk to see if Elnora were coming. She knew
arrangements had been made with Margaret to go to the city some time
that day, so she grew more nervous and uneasy every moment. She was
haunted by the fear that the blow might discolour Elnora's cheek; that
she would tell Margaret. She went down the back walk, looking intently
in all directions, left the garden and followed the swamp path. Her step
was n