She dropped on the ground and leaned against a big log.

When a little child, desperate as now, she had tried to die by holding her breath.

She had thought in that way to make her mother sorry, but she had learned that life was a thing thrust upon her and she could not leave it at her wish.
She was so stunned over the loss of that moth, which she had childishly named the Yellow Emperor, that she scarcely remembered the blow.

She had thought no luck in all the world would be so rare as to complete her collection; now she had been forced to see a splendid Imperialis destroyed before her.

There was a possibility that she could find another, but she was facing the certainty that the one she might have had and with which she undoubtedly could have attracted others, was spoiled by her mother.