“If this sort of thing happens often, I don’t think that I should collect beetles from choice, at least not large ones,” groaned Arthur.
“Oh, dear,” laughed Mrs. Carr, “I never saw anything so absurd. I don’t know which looks most savage, you or the beetle.”
“Don’t make all that noise, Mildred, you will frighten him, and if once he flies we shall never catch him in this big room.”
Here, fortunately for Arthur, the servant arrived with the required bottle, into which the ferocious insect was triumphantly stoppered by Miss Terry.
“I am so much obliged to you, Mr. Heigham, you are a true collector.”
“For the first and last time,” mumbled Arthur, who was sucking his finger.
“I am infinitely obliged to you, too, Mr. Heigham,” said Mrs. Carr, as soon as she had recovered from her fit of laughing; “the beetle is really very rare; it is not even in the British Museum. But come, let us go in to luncheon.”
After that meal was over, Mrs. Carr asked her guest which he would like to see, her collection of beetles or of mummies.
“Thank you, Mrs. Carr, I have had enough of beetles for one day, so I vote for the mummies.”
“Very well. Will you come, Agatha?”