Bee and Butterfly Part 21

"But Percival _has_ curls, and he _does_ wear knickerbockers," spoke Bee in dismay. "Though he told me, father, that he despised his clothes, and that a real fellow did not like to wear such things. He really is a marvel, and I am sure that Mrs. Medulla would like for us to call on them. She has been very nice to me."

"Very well, my daughter. I suppose that we ought to be neighborly, but I shall not have much time for visiting. Let us listen to your cousin now.

She is waiting for us."

Adele had at length settled herself to her satisfaction. She liked to play. She was the center of all eyes at the piano, and she was conscious that she looked her very best as, with eyes upturned, she sang some old ballad in her sweet and plaintive little voice.

Doctor Raymond lighted a cigar. Bee brought his tobacco set and placed it upon a small table by his chair. Then she sat down to listen. How beautiful Adele was! Despite her good resolutions a pang went through her heart as she noted her father's intense gaze of admiration. Adele sang on and on. The room grew dark. Beatrice rose, attended to the lights, trying to stifle the feeling of sadness that was stealing over her.

"Isn't she pretty?" she asked of her father suddenly, bending over and speaking wistfully.

"She is like an exquisite cameo," was the entomologist's enthusiastic response. "I am glad that you admire her, Beatrice, though I do not see how one could help it. Won't she tire herself?"

"I will see, father." Bee went to her cousin and touched her gently on the shoulder.

"Aren't you tired, Adele?"

"I believe that I am," replied Adele, jumping up from the stool. "I saw that Uncle William was interested and so I kept on."

This was scarcely true. She had played on because she saw that her uncle enjoyed looking at her. In common with most beauties she was conscious when she excited admiration.

"You sing very nicely, my dear," was the scientist's comment. For some reason he appeared more at home with his niece than he did with his daughter.

"Thank you, uncle," said Adele sweetly. "What are we to do tomorrow, Bee? Let's go shopping. I want to get a new blue dress. Mamma said that I could have one."

"I cannot go in the morning," replied Bee, whose mind was made up on this point. With her mornings with her father she had resolved there should be no interference. "I help father with his cataloguing then. I will go in the afternoon, if you wish."

"Then what will become of me?" pouted Adele.

"You shall help us," said Doctor Raymond, pleasantly. "Tomorrow we take up the life history of 'The Purple Emperor.' It is one of the most charming of b.u.t.terflies, and I am sure that you will enjoy it. Beauty should be drawn by beautiful things," he added graciously.

"Why, of course I'll help," cried Adele, delighted by the compliment.

"There is one call, or errand of mercy rather, that I would like you girls to make for me," remarked the scientist presently. "This morning the minister told me that old Rachel was ailing. It would be a graceful thing for you two to take her some delicacies of some sort. The old appreciate such attentions. She was a faithful servant of your mother's, Beatrice. Indeed, she attended her through her last illness."

"I know, father. Uncle Henry said that you wished her looked after, and that she should not want for anything. He had me to go down to the cabin every month to see what she needed. I have not been since your return though. I thought perhaps you would prefer to attend to her yourself."

"I have been once, my daughter, but I can not go tomorrow. If you girls--"

"Certainly we'll go," cried Adele before Bee could reply. "Let's wear our gray dresses, Bee, and pretend that we are Sisters of Charity."

"You may wear a gray dress if you wish," remarked Bee. "I shall dress as I always do. Father, don't you think that we ought to attend to that before we go shopping?"

"Yes. Deeds of kindness should take precedence over all else. Now, girls, I am going into the study to read for a time. I know that you two must have a great deal to say to each other. Beatrice has had to be content with just me a long time.

"Good-night, Uncle William!" Adele ran to him and put up her lips for a kiss. "You are just horrid to run off to those old bugs and things. If you run away too often, I'll throw them into the river."

Bee looked up horrified at her cousin's pertness.

"Good-night, you b.u.t.terfly," responded Doctor Raymond, kissing his niece, and seeming not at all dismayed by her threat. "Don't let me catch you tampering with my bugs, as you call them. Good-night, daughter!"

"Good-night, father," replied the girl without glancing at him. He had laughed just as if he had enjoyed Adele's nonsense. He had not kissed her since the first night of his homecoming, and her heart throbbed at the thought of how easily Adele could get what she would have given anything for.

Her father hesitated a moment, then, catching sight of her expression, he crossed the room to her side, and putting his hand under her chin, raised her face gently and looked into her eyes.

"Aren't you going to kiss me too?" he asked.

Bee's eyes filled, and she was unable to speak, as was always the case when she was deeply moved. He waited, wondering at her silence, when all at once he spoke with a quick intake of his breath:

"There is a look of your mother about you tonight, Beatrice. I never noticed it before. Child, child,--"

He withdrew his hand from her chin, turned, and quitted the room abruptly.

"What made him do that?" cried Adele. "Doesn't he like you yet, Bee?"

But Bee's eyes were s.h.i.+ning through her tears.

"He said that I looked like my mother," she breathed. "Oh, Adele! Did you hear him?"

"Well, what of it? I don't see anything so wonderful in that. Everyone says that I am the perfect image of mamma. It would be natural for you to look like your mother."

"But he loved her dearly, dearly," said Bee. "If he thinks that I am like her he will love me too. He just _must_ like me," she broke forth.

"Why, Adele, I think I should die if he didn't."

"Oh, no; you wouldn't, Bee. I don't think you know how to manage him.

Now I can make him do anything I wish. I could show you a few little tricks--"

"Thank you," answered Bee with dignity. "I don't want any more of your tricks, Adele. One of them has caused quite enough mischief."

"But you have forgiven me that, Bee; haven't you? I saw that you had just as soon as you kissed me."

"Adele," spoke Bee earnestly, "I am trying to do it. It brought father back to me sooner than he would have come. For that reason I am going to be toward you as I used to be, but I don't want to talk about it too much. And I don't want any more of your tricks. That is, if you care to have me like you."

"Beatrice Raymond, what has come to you?" asked Adele, her eyes opening wide at her cousin's seriousness. "I never saw such a difference in any one as there is in you since your father's return. Of course you are going to be toward me just as you used to be. You always were fond of me, and you are going to love me just as much as ever. What in the world are you doing?"

Beatrice made no reply. They were in her room by this time, and Adele was taking down her hair to brush it. Bee was leaning far out of a window, looking toward the garden where the dim outline of the moss rose bush, the rose her mother had planted, could be seen. There were no roses now, but the bush stood shapely and symmetrical in the moonlight.

"He said that I looked like her," she mused thoughtfully, her heart going out with yearning toward that mother who was scarcely more than a memory to her. "And he loved her dearly, dearly!"

Chapter XVI

"It Is So Hard To Do the Right Thing"

"Some of these days the skies will be brighter, Some of these days the burdens be lighter; Hearts will be happier, souls will be whiter, Some of these days, Some of these days."

--_Frank L. Stanton._