Bee and Butterfly Part 3

"Laugh if you want to," retorted Adele.

"Isn't Professor Lawrence always telling the boys that one of them may be President of the United States some day, and that every one of them is eligible? Now the President has to have a wife, doesn't he? Well, I never could see why a girl mightn't look forward to being the Mistress of the White House as well as a boy might expect to be President."

"If having a perfect complexion is one of the essentials toward becoming the Mistress of the White House you are right in line for the position,"

said Bee wiping her eyes. "Never mind, Adele! I was just having a little fun. Your skin is lovely, and I expect I would be just as careful as you are if it were mine. I wonder how it would feel to be a beauty!"

"It's a great responsibility," declared Adele with a toss of her head.

"There is so much to live up to. If I am the least bit untidy some one is sure to say: 'Such a pretty girl should always be neat and dainty.'

Or, 'beauty and dirt don't go together, my dear.' While you--you can be as careless as you wish, and no one thinks anything about it."

"I am not so sure about that." Bee shook her head dubiously. "Aunt Annie is always taking me to task for my untidiness. And there is much demanded of me in other ways. If you are expected to be neat and dainty at all times, I am urged to be industrious."

"'How doth the little busy bee Improve each s.h.i.+ning hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower!'"

quoted Adele in a sing-song tone. "Isn't that what the girls are always saying, Bee? I never see you flying about the house helping mamma, or running errands, or pouring over your books that I don't think of the 'Little busy bee.' Now I can't find time to do anything except to dress, and to keep myself looking nice."

"Well, a b.u.t.terfly is not expected to do anything but to fly in the sun, and be happy," laughed Bee. "And you are like a golden and white b.u.t.terfly, Adele. Bees must make honey. They are too homely to do anything else, while b.u.t.terflies--"

"Speaking of b.u.t.terflies," interrupted Adele quickly. "There is one just about to light on your head."

"What kind is it?" queried Beatrice holding her head very still, and speaking anxiously. "I hope it isn't a cabbage b.u.t.terfly. I shouldn't like to think that even a b.u.t.terfly would take my head for a cabbage."

"It's yellow and black, Bee. Is that the cabbage b.u.t.terfly? I don't know as much about such things as you do."

"The cabbage b.u.t.terfly is white. Has it settled yet?"

"Yes." Adele watched as a yellow and black Swallow Tail poised gently upon Bee's head for a moment, and then flew away. "There! it's gone."

"That's a good omen," declared Bee turning toward the gate. "Whenever a b.u.t.terfly lights on your head it means favorable news from a distance.

There will be something good in father's letter, I know. Come, Adele!

lets hurry so that we can get it."

Adele straightened her hat a little, and then the two girls set off for the postoffice.

Chapter III

The Good News

"As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country."

--_Proverbs._

"Suppose there shouldn't be a letter," remarked Adele suggestively as the cousins entered the postoffice. "What would you do?"

"But there will be," answered Bee confidently. "In all the years that he has been away father has not failed to send me a letter once a month.

Even though it may not be an answer to my last, I'll get a letter."

She was not disappointed. There was a letter for her, and Adele received one also.

"Let's hurry to the old elm tree so that we can read them," cried Adele.

"I wonder who mine's from? I didn't expect a letter."

Beatrice a.s.sented readily. The old elm tree stood by the side of the road just outside the town and was a favorite resting place for pedestrians. It did not take the girls long to reach the spot, so eager were they to read their letters. Beatrice threw herself down on the gra.s.s without ceremony, and tore open her epistle. Adele sank down with a graceful and effective arrangement of her draperies. Before she had quite completed the adjustment she was startled by an exclamation from her cousin.

"What is it, Bee?" she asked, looking up curiously.

"He is coming home," cried Bee jumping up and dancing about wildly. "Oh, my father is coming home!"

"Is he?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Adele excitedly. "What does he say? Do be quiet, Bee? Sit down and read me the letter, or let me read it."

"I'll read it to you," answered Bee, kissing the missive rapturously.

"I'll read it in a minute. Oh, oh, oh! I'm so happy I could fly."

She grew quiet presently, however, and seating herself again, began to read:

"Cairo, Egypt, May 16th, 19--.

"My dear Little Daughter:--

"When you receive this letter your father will be nearer to you than he has been for many a day. Child, I am coming home. Yes; after all these years I am returning to you. How long I shall remain is problematical, as I have not yet completed my investigation of the Lepidoptera of tropical countries.

However, that is a matter that may be left to the future.

"Another two years would have terminated my task, but such a longing has come to me to behold my little daughter who must now be almost a woman that I have dropped everything, and am coming to her as swiftly as steam can carry me.

"No doubt you have often wondered that I should have left you, and the subject has been too painful to me to discuss; but now, you are old enough to understand my reasons. When your mother died she left a void in my life that nothing but the most engrossing occupation could make me forget. Change of scene was an absolute necessity for me; and so, when Union University wished to send an entomologist to study the habits of Moths and b.u.t.terflies of other countries, I was glad indeed when it was proposed that I should be the one to go. You were but five years old, and needed a woman's care more than mine, so I left you with your uncle's family. I still think it was the best thing I could have done.

"I thought that it would be an easy matter to stay away for twelve, or even more years, but lately there have come to me sweet visions of a daughter's companions.h.i.+p, and Nature will no longer be denied. It is partly your letters which have wrought this change. They have been so bright, so clever, so amusing, that you must have a mind of unusual intelligence. I said 'partly your letters'; for the receipt of your photograph completed what the letters had begun.

"I can not resist the winsomeness of your picture, so I am coming back to get acquainted with you, and perhaps we shall discover a mutual companions.h.i.+p and affection.

"Are you like your mother, I wonder, or do you take after me? I can not tell by your picture, but I think--No; I shall not tell you what I think until I see you.

"So, little girl, get your aunt and uncle to go over to our house to open it up, and to make it habitable for living. If nothing happens I shall be with you on the evening of the Fifteenth of June. I am writing Henry, also, by this mail.

"Hoping to see you soon, I am "Your most loving father, "William Raymond."

"He is coming," ended Bee with a little sob. "My own, own father."

"I am glad," spoke Adele, but her voice was weak as she said it. Into her face had come a look of dismay as Bee read what her father had said of the "winsomeness of the picture." An impulse came to her to confess to her cousin what she had done, but she was fearful of what Bee might say. She had not thought that it would have this effect. And so she sat quieter than her wont while Bee gave vent to her delight.

"You don't know how I've felt at times, Adele," said Bee. "I've almost envied you your father. When Uncle Henry has kissed you, and petted and indulged you it hasn't seemed fair that I couldn't have my father. But I never told you before, and I didn't tell any one. I knew father wouldn't stay away unless he thought it was right, and I see now just why he did it. I'll tell him that I don't blame him a bit. And we'll just love each other all the more for being apart so long."

And so, with tears and laughter mingling together, Bee rejoiced. A meadow lark flew, across the road, alighted on a twig and sang to them.