At this moment a bright bit of color fluttered through the air and dropped in the grass by her side.
"It's a butterfly," cried Bee. "A poor little butterfly that has come to the end of its life."
She bent over the dainty insect and lifted it gently. A cry of delight escaped her lips as she looked at it. The insect moved its wings slightly, disclosing its gorgeous colorings.
"It's father's Teinopalpus Imperialis! It's the butterfly that I lost!" she exclaimed joyfully. "It's father's rare specimen!"
She sprang up and ran to the house as fast as she could.
"Father, father," she called excitedly, bursting into the study. "See! I have found your butterfly!"
"My butterfly, Beatrice?" Doctor Raymond glanced up from a letter he was reading. His daughter was too intent upon the finding of the insect to note that his face was very grave. "What do you mean?"
"The one I lost," cried Bee holding the creature toward him. "See the spots on the wings, and these markings on the secondaries! It is the very one, isn't it?"
"It certainly looks like it." The naturalist took the insect and examined it critically. "Where did you find it?"
"I was in the grove," explained Bee. "All at once this butterfly fluttered down by my side. I saw that it was yours so I brought it home at once."