He frequently stooped to examine a flower face, paused to listen intently to the thrush or lifted his head to see the gold flash which accompanied the oriole's trailing notes.

So Elnora uttered the first cry, as she softly lifted branches and peered among the grasses.
"My find!" she called.

"Bring the box, mother!" Philip came hurrying also.

When they reached her she stood on the path holding a pair of moths.

Her eyes were wide with excitement, her cheeks pink, her red lips parted, and on the hand she held out to them clung a pair of delicate blue-green moths, with white bodies, and touches of lavender and straw colour.