"Well, a butterfly is not expected to do anything but to fly in the sun, and be happy," laughed Bee. "And you are like a golden and white butterfly, Adele. Bees must make honey. They are too homely to do anything else, while butterflies—"
"Speaking of butterflies," interrupted Adele quickly. "There is one just about to light on your head."
"What kind is it?" queried Beatrice holding her head very still, and speaking anxiously. "I hope it isn't a cabbage butterfly. I shouldn't like to think that even a butterfly would take my head for a cabbage."
"It's yellow and black, Bee. Is that the cabbage butterfly? I don't know as much about such things as you do."
"The cabbage butterfly is white. Has it settled yet?"
"Yes." Adele watched as a yellow and black Swallow Tail poised gently upon Bee's head for a moment, and then flew away. "There! it's gone."
"That's a good omen," declared Bee turning toward the gate. "Whenever a butterfly lights on your head it means favorable news from a distance. There will be something good in father's letter, I know. Come, Adele! lets hurry so that we can get it."
Adele straightened her hat a little, and then the two girls set off for the postoffice.