Then it was
pure joy to stand back and watch her heaving breast, flushed cheek, and
shining eyes. Hers were such lovely eyes. Freckles had discovered lately
that they were not so dark as he had thought them at first, but that
the length and thickness of lash, by which they were shaded, made them
appear darker than they really were. They were forever changing. Now
sparkling and darkling with wit, now humid with sympathy, now burning
with the fire of courage, now taking on strength of color with ambition,
now flashing indignantly at the abuse of any creature.
She had carried several of the squirrel and bunny babies home, and had
littered the conservatory with them. Her care of them was perfect. She
was learning her natural history from nature, and having much healthful
exercise. To her, they were the most interesting of all, but the
Bird Woman preferred the birds, with a close second in the moths and
butterflies.
Brown butterfly time had come. The edge of the swale was filled with
milkweed, and other plants beloved of them, and the air was golden with
the flashing satin wings of the monarch, viceroy, and argynnis.
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