Exiting the coach, she inhaled the cool evening air. The heavy scent of damp earth and decaying leaves tickled her nostrils, and she sneezed, sending her spectacles sliding downward until they halted on the upturned end of her nose. She pushed the glasses back into place with a practiced gesture and scanned the area, searching for the fireflies while Cyril settled back on his perch atop the coach to wait. He was well used to these unplanned stops in the woods.

Sammie walked down the path toward where she'd seen the glow. Warmth spread through her as she imagined Hubert's thin, serious face wreathed in smiles should she return with such a treasure. She loved the boy with all her heart-his brilliant, sharp mind and his tall, gangly frame with large, awkward feet he hadn't yet grown into.

Yes, she and Hubert were cut from the same cloth. They wore similar spectacles and possessed the same blue eyes and thick, unruly chestnut hair. They both enjoyed swimming, fishing, and searching the forest for flora and fauna specimens-activities that had more than once driven Mama to the vapors. In fact, Samantha and Hubert's secret name for Mama was Cricket because she emitted a series of high-pitched chirps just before she "fainted"-always artistically-onto one of the many settees scattered strategically about the Briggeham home.

Mama will most definitely chirp when she discovers where I've just been. And what I've done.

Tiny flashes of yellow light caught her eye and her heart jumped with excitement. It was indeed fireflies! Several hovered near the ground at the base of an oak a short distance away.

"No running off now, Miz Sammie," Cyril called as she moved toward the oak. " 'Tis gittin' dark and me eyes ain't what they used to be."

"Don't worry, Cyril. There's still plenty of light and I'll not go farther than this." Dropping to her knees, she gentry captured the rare insect in her hand and placed it in her pouch.