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what I think will particularly interest you. I know you received the Morpho Menelaus I sent you; I went in pursuit of its congener, the Morpho Rhetenor—which is of an even brighter, more metallic blue, and over seven inches across. I do have
one
Morpho Rhetenor, here—not a good specimen—a little torn, and missing a leg. They fly in the broad, sunny roads in the forest, they float very slowly, occasionally flapping their wings, like birds, and they almost never come down below twenty feet, so they are almost impossible to catch, though exquisitely beautiful to see, sailing in the greenish sunlight. But I employed some agile little Indian boys to climb up for me and they were able to bring me a pair of a related species
equally
rare and in its way equally lovely, though not blue—here, look—the male is a lustrous satiny-white, and the female is a quieter pale lavender, but still exquisite. When they were brought to me, in such perfect condition, I felt the blood rush to my head, truly felt I might faint with excitement. I did not know then how appropriate they were to add to your collection. They are related closely to Morpho Adonis. And to Morpho Uraneis Batesii. They are Morpho Eugenia, Sir Harald.’
    Harald Alabaster looked at the dead, shining creatures.
    ‘Morpho Eugenia. Remarkable. A remarkable creation. How beautiful, how delicately designed, how wonderful that something so fragile should have come here, through such dangers, from the other end of the earth. And very rare. I have never seen one. I have never heard tell of anyone who has seen one. Morpho Eugenia. Well.’
    He pulled his bell-rope again, which produced, in the room, only a faint creaking sound.
    ‘It is hard,’ he said to William, ‘not to agree with the Duke ofArgyll that the extraordinary beauty of these creatures is in itself the evidence of the work of a Creator, a Creator who also made our human sensibility to beauty, to design, to delicate variation and brilliant colour.’
    ‘From our spontaneous response to them,’ said William carefully, ‘I feel instinctively drawn to agree with you. But from the scientific viewpoint I feel I must ask what purpose of Nature’s might be fulfilled by all this brilliance and loveliness. Mr Darwin, I know, inclines to think that the fact that it is very preponderantly
male
butterflies and birds that are so brilliantly coloured—whilst females are often drab and unobtrusive—suggests that perhaps there is some advantage to the male, in flaunting his scarlets and golds, which might make the female select him as a mate. Mr Wallace argues that the drabness of the female is
protective
coloration—she may hang under a leaf to lay her eggs, or sit in the shades on her nest and melt unseen into the shadows. I have myself noticed that the brightly coloured male butterflies wheel about in huge flocks in the sunlight whilst the females seem timid, and lurk under bushes and in damp places.’
    There was a knock at the door, and a footman came into the study.
    ‘Ah, Robin, find Miss Eugenia if you can—and all the young ladies—we have something here to show them. Tell her to come as soon as she may.’
    ‘Yes, sir.’ The door closed again.
    ‘There is another question,’ said William, ‘which I ask myself often. Why do the most brilliant butterflies bask with open wings on the upper surfaces of leaves, or fly in a slow, flapping motion, not rapidly? The Papilios, for instance, are also known as pharmacophages, or
poison-eaters
, because they feed on the poisonous aristolochia vines—and they seem to know they may flaunt themselves with impunity, that predators will not snap them up. It is possible that their gaudy display is a kind of defiant
warning
. MrBates has even suggested that certain inoffensive species
mimic
these poisonous ones in order to share their immunity. He has found some Pieridae—whites and sulphurs—indistinguishable from some Ithomines, to the casual eye, or even the careful