s, perhaps a certain awe in which she held him--restrained
her. Presently he straightened up, turned away from the bush with a
sigh, and walked on. Beatrice followed him silently, and the golden
opportunity was gone.

"I am hatching the larvae of the Thecla titus Fabricus from the eggs," he
said as they left the garden a little later, "I wish to get the proper
plants for them to feed upon."

"Then we must go to the woodland instead of the orchard," said Bee
quickly. "You will need the leaves of the wild cherry, or the wild plum.
I believe that the caterpillars of the Coral Hair-Streaks feed upon
them."

"How do you know?" questioned her father in astonishment.

"I studied butterflies, father," explained the girl. "You know 'tis your
specialty, and I wanted to be able to help you when you came home. I
don't remember many of the technical names though," she added honestly.
"That just happened to be one that I knew. See! there goes a Copper."

Every step through the clover displaced myriads of small butterflies
with wings of some shade of coppery-red or orange. Dappled fritillaries
and angle wings, blocked in red and black, often variegated by odd
dashes and spots of burnished silver or peacock eyes, crowded about the
spreading thistle blossoms, or perched contentedly upon the many
flowered umbrels of the milkweed.

"Then that is how you knew about protective mimicry?" asked he, after
commenting upon the butterfly pointed out by Bee.

"Yes." Beatrice laughed more gaily than she had for days as she noted
his pleased expression. "He likes it because I studied them," she told
herself gleefully.

"And that one passing yonder. The one with the zigzag flight, my
daughter. That is a Skipper, is it not?"

Beatrice turned a look of surprise upon him.

"Why, father! that is a Swallowtail," she cried. "How could you make
such a--" She broke into a laugh suddenly as she saw his eyes twinkle.
"You were just trying to see if I knew," she cried.

"I'm afraid that I shall have to admit it," he said. "Have you any
specimens?"

"A few, father. Some Swallowtails, some Brush-footed ones, a number of
Blues, Coppers and Hair-streaks."

"Why! you are quite a lepidopterist," exclaimed Doctor Raymond. "And the
eggs, the larvae and the chrysalids; do you have them too?"

The girl hung her head.

"N-no; I know one has to have those things as well as the butterflies to
study the science properly, but I have none. I think the butter