The blue was so overwhelmingly vibrant, it seemed to swallow her mind whole. She could stare deep into the azure wings for hours and simply forget her troubles. It was always a relief to imagine that she could just drop the miserable thoughts into those colored depths like stones into the ocean, and watch them fall away forever. Unfortunately that relief was only ever transient. In truth, those wings were flat.

The Morpho Menelaus was displayed prominently in the center of the frame, surrounded by the smaller specimens. Out of all the insects in her mothers collection, this butterfly was always Jane's favorite. Now it belonged to her.

For two years now it hung above her drawing table, directly across from her bed. The last thing she would see before sleep, and the first thing each time she awoke. She felt a little better now. Having indulged in her meditation for ten minutes or so. She felt more comfortable with the prospect of meeting strangers.

Her mother and father had been friends with Mr. Liddell for years before his passing nearly a decade ago. He accompanied them on an expedition to South America. That was where the Morpho Menelaus came from. Mr. Liddell took on the considerable challenge of wildlife photography. It was a challenge because at this point in history the leading photographic method was the collodion process. This required the photographer to make use of a portable dark room, within which they would have merely ten minutes to properly develop the photograph.

The result was an understandably cumbersome and frustrating experience, though perhaps that was the point. According to her father, Mr. Liddell was a glutton for adversity and just a little bit mad, albeit in a charming way. Always failing to take his own advice and relishing in the chaotic consequences.

Not at all like Jane. She wondered now, with only slight apprehension what his daughters might be like.

Hopefully not too mad.