unable to meet his eyes.

"I should have known better than to have trusted you." Doctor Raymond's
bitter disappointment was evident in his voice and manner. "It is
doubtful if that butterfly can ever be replaced. The larva was obtained
at the risk of my life, and by a few moments of carelessness all has
gone for naught. I thought you different from other girls. I believed
that you appreciated the privilege of being among my specimens too
greatly to be careless. I see my mistake. After this, I do not wish you
to enter either this study, or the laboratory. My specimens are too
valuable to risk another such loss. Do you understand, Beatrice? Under
no circumstances are you to enter these rooms again."

"Not even to help you catalogue, father?" Bee had ceased crying now, and
she stood staring at him with eyes full of anguish.

"Not even for that purpose, Beatrice. Your own untrustworthiness has
deprived you of the privilege."

"And aren't you ever going to forgive me?" she asked miserably.

"It depends upon your future conduct," returned her father coldly. "I
desire to say no more upon the subject at present. Go now, while I
repair whatever else of mischief may be done."

He went into the laboratory as he finished speaking, closing the door
behind him. Bee sank into a chair, and sat gazing after him with all her
heart in her eyes. It was ended. The delightful mornings of study, the
cataloguing, the mounting and framing of the beautiful insects. By her
own act she had forfeited the right to be his companion and helper. She
did not question the justice of the punishment. She knew that it was
right. Her father's collection was in truth too valuable to be exposed
to carelessness. That it was regarded as almost priceless by the
University, Beatrice knew, and, as the full realization came to her that
she had lost its rarest specimen, the girl was almost overwhelmed with
grief.

It was several moments before she could obtain control of herself. Then
she rose, and went slowly toward the door. Pausing with her hand on the
knob she turned for a last glance at the loved objects in the room. Long
she looked at her father's chair, at the heap of manuscript on the
table, at her own place with the note book and pencil in front of it, at
the door of the laboratory behind which were all the wonderful
specimens. She would be with them no more. Bee's heart was very full as
she opened the door and went out, shutting it softly behind her.