once, dodged into a brood-frame, where youngsters who had not yet
seen the winds blow or the flowers nod discussed life. Here she
was safe, for young bees will tolerate any sort of stranger.
Behind her came the bee who had been slanged by the Guard.

"What is the world like, Melissa?" said a companion. "Cruel! I
brought in a full load of first-class stuff, and the Guard told
me to go and be foul-brooded!" She sat down in the cool draught
across the combs.

"If you'd only heard," said the Wax-moth silkily, "the insolence
of the Guard's tone when she cursed our sister. It aroused the
Entire Community." She laid an egg. She had stolen in for that
purpose.

"There was a bit of a fuss on the Gate," Melissa chuckled. "You
were there, Miss?" She did not know how to address the slim
stranger.

"Don't call me 'Miss.' I'm a sister to all in affliction--just a
working-sister. My heart bled for you beneath your burden." The
Wax-moth caressed Melissa with her soft feelers and laid another
egg.

"You mustn't lay here," cried Melissa. "You aren't a Queen."

"My dear child, I give you my most solemn word of honour those
aren't eggs. Those are my principles, and I am ready to die for
them." She raised her voice a little above the rustle and tramp
round her. "If you'd like to kill me, pray do."