‘Such a young lady’s tender-hearted notion,’ said Reginald. ‘Who ever heard of a man of science managing in such a ridiculous way?’ ‘Man of science!’ exclaimed Lily, ‘when he will have forgotten by next Christmas that insects ever existed.’ It was not convenient to hear this speech, so Maurice turned an empty flower-pot over his prisoner, and left it in Jane’s care while he went to fetch the means of destruction, probably choosing the lawn for the place of execution, in order to show his contempt for his sisters. ‘Fair damsel in boddice blue,’ said Lily, peeping in at the hole at the top of the flower-pot, ‘I wish I could avert your melancholy fate. I am very sorry for you, but I cannot help it.’ ‘You might help it now, at any rate,’ muttered Claude. ‘No,’ said Lily, ‘I know Monsieur Maurice too well to arouse his wrath so justly. If you choose to release the pretty creature, I shall be charmed.’ ‘You forget that I am in charge,’ said Jane. ‘There is a carriage coming to the front gate,’ cried Ada. ‘Emily, may I go into the drawing-room? Oh, Jenny, will you undo my brown holland apron?’ ‘That is right, little mincing Miss,’ said Reginald, with a low bow; ‘how fine we are to-day.’ ‘How visitors break into the afternoon,’ said Emily, with a languid turn of her head. ‘Jenny, brownie,’ called Maurice from his bedroom window, ‘I want the sulphuric acid.’ Jane sprang up and ran into the house, though her sisters called after her, that she would come full upon the company in the hall. ‘They shall not catch me here,’ cried Reginald, rushing off into the shrubbery. ‘Are you coming in, Claude?’ said Emily. ‘Send Ada to call me, if there is any one worth seeing,’ said Claude ‘They will see you from the window,’ said Emily. ‘No,’ said Claude, ‘no one ever found me out last summer, under these friendly branches.’ The old butler, Joseph, now showed himself on the terrace; and the young ladies, knowing that he had no intention of crossing the lawn, hastened to learn from him who their visitors were, and entered the house. Just then Phyllis came running back from the kitchen garden, and without looking round, or perceiving Claude, she took up the flower-pot and released the captive, which, unconscious of its peril, rested on a blade of grass, vibrating its gauzy wings and rejoicing in the restored sunbeams.