"I rather liked them. The lady p.r.o.nounces Beatrice's name after the Italian fashion, and is a very warm friend of hers. The boy is undoubtedly a genius, albeit somewhat spoiled. I am glad that we have them for neighbors."

Chapter XVIII

A Breach of Trust

"Our lives are songs; G.o.d writes the words, And we set them to music at leisure; And the song is sad, or the song is glad, As we choose to fashion the measure."

--_Gibbon._

"Oh! Oh!" screamed Adele, dancing up and down distractedly. "Take it away! Take it away!"

Doctor Raymond ran from the study into the laboratory.

"What is the matter? What has happened?" he cried, alarmed by the girl's pale face and affrighted manner.

"It's a caterpillar," explained Bee, who was vainly trying to get Adele to keep still long enough to remove the creature. "There, Adele, it can't hurt you. Just be still a moment so that I can take it off."

But Adele continued to shriek, while the caterpillar wriggled along her delicate arm, each movement sufficing to send her into a fresh paroxysm of fear.

"There, child!" Doctor Raymond pa.s.sed his arm about her, and held her tightly. "Don't jump so. There is nothing to be afraid of. The poor thing is as much frightened as you are. See! it's gone. Beatrice, return it to its cage."

"Take me out of this horrid place," sobbed Adele, clinging to him tightly. "I never want to come in here again."

"I thought you had been in before," said her uncle questioningly, as he led her into the study. "See that everything is closed properly, Beatrice."

"No; I have not," shivered Adele. "It was all Bee's fault. She wanted me to see some b.u.t.terflies come out of their coc.o.o.ns, so I went with her.

The room was filled with creepy, crawly things. Oh, dear!" She shuddered, then wiped her eyes, and looked up at him plaintively. "Do you think I am an awful goose, Uncle William?"

"No, my dear," answered Doctor Raymond with a smile. "Only very feminine. Few of your s.e.x overcome their prejudice to creeping creatures unless they become interested in them through science. I was surprised that Beatrice was not timid."

Bee, entering just then, heard the remark and smiled to herself. She did not explain that it was because of him that she had overcome her repugnance to them.

"Bee doesn't mind anything that crawls," exclaimed Adele who had recovered herself by this time.

"I don't like snakes," declared Bee emphatically.

"You people talk about the most dreadful things," cried Adele. "Do you know that I wake up nights feeling creepy? If you don't care, Uncle William, I am going down to Aunt Rachel's while you and Bee study your old worms. No more science for me, thank you."

"By all means," smiled the naturalist. "You shall be our angel of charity while Beatrice and I remain true to science. But perhaps you would prefer to go with Adele, Beatrice?"

"No;" answered Bee eagerly, glad that she was to have him to herself again. "She won't care if I stay with you, father; and I would rather be with you."

"I don't mind going alone, Uncle William, if Bee is of any a.s.sistance to you." Adele looked at him with pretty concern. "If she hinders you though you ought to send her right along with me."

Doctor Raymond was silent so long that Bee was startled.

"Do I hinder you, father?" she asked tremulously. "I did not think of that. I thought that I was helping. If I am not, if you just have me here because you think it will please me, say so; and I won't bother you any more."

"Now, Bee," protested Adele archly, "why do you tease him? Of course he is much too polite to tell you that you trouble him. I was joking anyway. Come along, and leave your father in peace."

"Leave the room," commanded Beatrice peremptorily. "I wish to be alone with my father."

"Upon my word, Bee!" cried Adele, undecided whether she should go or stay. She stood for a moment, and then, as her uncle did not come to her rescue, gave a light laugh at her cousin's determined att.i.tude, and left the room.

"Was not that a little abrupt, my daughter?" asked Doctor Raymond quietly.

"It was, father," admitted Beatrice contritely. "But this is a matter that concerns us alone, and I just could not be trifled with. There was no reason why she should stay. Now, father, if I bother you in any way, I will do so no more, but let you work undisturbed. Do I? Tell me truly.

Don't say what you think will please me, but the truth."

"The truth! the truth! and nothing but the truth," laughed he, his eyes softening as he met the earnest gaze of his daughter. "Set your mind at rest, Beatrice. You do not hinder me in the least, but on the contrary help me no little. I was summing up all that you had done when you turned upon me so suddenly. You are rather strenuous at times."

"I know that I am, father." Bee was so relieved that she was of use to him that she spoke for once without reserve: "I wish I were sweet and beautiful, and all that you wish. And, and I am trying to be lovable. It is not always easy," she ended with a sigh.

"None of us find it so, my child. I have noticed your efforts, Beatrice, with pleasure. Another thing: when I first came home, there was a carelessness in your dress which you have corrected. Your cousin herself is not more neat in her attire now than you are."

"Oh, father! have you noticed?" cried Bee so delightedly that his features relaxed into a smile. "I did not think you did. And my temper!

It is so quick, but maybe in time I'll get so that I can control it. I used not to be so quick tempered, but since you have returned I seem to show all my bad qualities."

"That is scarcely complimentary to me, is it? I would better put you under your aunt's keeping again, if my influence is so--"

"Oh, no, no!" cried Bee, distressed. "I did not mean it that way. It isn't you at all, father. It is me. I can't help but feel ugly toward anyone who tries to come between us."

"Why, child, no one is trying to come between us. There is no reason why we should not become very dear friends as the years go by. I am already depending upon you greatly, and nothing but a betrayal of trust could change my feeling for you. Such a thing as that, however, I am convinced is foreign to your nature."

"I will never betray even your slightest wish," cried the girl earnestly. "You do like me a little, don't you?"

"Certainly I do. Are you satisfied now?"

"Yes;" replied Bee with eyes shining with happiness. "Dear me!" she exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "I have not been much of a help this morning. Just look at that time!"

"We won't mind it for the nonce, Beatrice. If we work well it will be but a few weeks until our task is done. The last of August will see all of my specimens out of their coc.o.o.ns; then--"

"Then what, father?" she asked anxiously.

"I don't quite know yet. I am considering several things before deciding upon my plans for the future. The main point is to attend to the duty in hand. Shall we resume our work?"

The next few days were happy ones for Beatrice. She worked with her father every morning while Adele went to Aunt Rachel's with the delicacies which Bee provided. In the afternoon they walked together, and in the evening visited Percival and his mother, or were visited by them. They were bright, happy days despite the presence of Adele. Some way Beatrice felt that she was gaining ground with her father, and the knowledge made her put forth her best efforts to please him.

In fact, she threw herself into the work with so much fervor that one day she found herself too tired and indisposed to take the accustomed walk with her father and cousin, and remained indoors for rest. After lying down for a time, she rose and began to dress.

"I do believe that father forgot to put that sorrel gra.s.s in the laboratory for the larvae of the Chrysopha.n.u.s America.n.u.s," she exclaimed suddenly, pausing in the act of brushing her hair. "I'll run right down to see."

The sorrel had been forgotten sure enough, and Beatrice ran out for some to take into the laboratory. The afternoon was extremely warm. As a usual thing the door between the study and the laboratory was kept closed, but today because of the heat Bee left it open, thinking to be in the room but a moment.