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Updated: May 6, 2025
She neither waved, nor called to me from the head of the stairs as she came down, but positively glided into the room with ease and distinction." "Blue Bonnet is growing into a young woman now," Mrs. Clyde answered. "She is leaving the hoydenish period. She will emerge, butterfly-like, from her chrysalis. I have never doubted it for a moment. There is a time for all things."
"I hope I shall be able to go North within a fortnight, and, after a short visit to Newport or Saratoga, sail for Havre. What do you want from the great storehouse of art, sculpture, and paintings, cameos and prints?" "I will furnish you with a catalogue. Do you go through Germany, or only flaunt, butterfly-like, under the sunny skies of the Levant?"
The loveliness of the way was enchanting the roads running straight as an arrow through glorious forest lands of pine, beech, maple, and oak, in the full glory of spring, and the perspective before and behind making a long narrowing green bower of meeting branches; the whole of the borders of the road covered with lovely flowers May-wings, a butterfly-like milkwort, pitcher-plant, convolvulus; new insects danced in the shade golden orioles, blue birds, the great American robin, the field officer, with his orange epaulettes, glanced before them.
All the same, it was delightful, as things were, to come down to Ford House on this sultry day and sit under the shadow of the hornbeam, with Leam looking her loveliest by his side, and butterfly-like Fina running in and out in the joyous way of a lively child fond of movement and not afflicted with shyness; delightful to feel that he was enacting a little poem unknown to all the world beside that he was the magician who had first wakened this young soul into life and taught it the sweet suffering of love; and delightful to know that he was king and supreme, the only man concerned, with not even a father to share, just yet, his domain.
The beauty can now feel assured that she will be depicted with all the grace of her charms, airy, fascinating, butterfly-like, flitting among the flowers of spring. The stately father of a family can see himself surrounded by his family. Merchant, warrior, citizen, statesman hasten one and all, wherever you may be.
Again, his studies lead him to that gorgeous inhabitant of the South, the butterfly-like Ascalaphus, with its resplendent wings, and slender, knobbed antennæ so much like those of butterflies, and visions of these beautiful insects fill his mind's eye; or sundry dun-colored caddis flies, modest, delicate neuroptera, with finely fringed wings and slender feelers, create doubts as to whether they are not really allies of the clothes moth, so close is the resemblance.
Or so it would appear from the way Loretta described it. But such girls do not always see correctly, and perhaps all that can be safely stated is that Mrs. Jeffrey was unnaturally pale and had lost her butterfly-like way of incessant movement.
The Germans realize this, and we do not. We had heard much of the place, situated thirty miles up the river "on the road to Mandalay," but found that even then the half had not been told. If there were nothing else to see but the people on the streets, a visit to Rangoon would be memorable, for nowhere else on earth perhaps is there such butterfly-like gorgeousness and gaudiness of raiment.
To include them in our own world, not by might or force, but through recognition of union with the one life this is consciousness of breadth that remains immortal. Again, the depth of a life must be equal, and how do we lack in this? There are thousands today who flit along on the crest of the wave of life's current, butterfly-like; they never really have a conscious thought.
Yes, symphonies, indeed, in the ears of memory are the names of the lightest loves that flittered butterfly-like across our path in the golden summer of our lives, each name calling up its human counterpart, with her own endearing personality distinguishing her from all other girls, her way of smiling, her way of talking, her way of being serious, all the little originalities on which she prided herself, her so solemnly held differentia of tastes and manners all, in a word, that made you realize that you were dining with Corinna and not with Chloe.
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