the deep love that sought, at least, to soothe the passage to the grave.
At this moment a loud exclamation from one of the children made Mrs. Dalton start, and her husband look round, half in fear, and half in anger. It was but the triumphant ejaculation that announced the capture of a large butterfly, whose brilliant colours seemed caught from the summer skies which brightened its brief existence. Ellen was seen the first, holding her fairy prisoner in the lightly clapsed hand, lest the glittering dust should be brushed from its delicate wings.
"You have frightened your Mamma out of her senses," said their father.
"Nay, nay," exclaimed Mrs. Dalton with one of her own gentle smiles. "I knew at once that it was a cry of pleasure. But, Ellen, you have not killed the poor insect?"
"No," said the child, "but you could not go to see it, and it was so pretty we could not help bringing it you to see."
"I shall see it best as it is flying away."
