'But indeed, there was no magic in the matter.

A lady called you by name on the day I found your handkerchief, and I was quick to remark and cherish it.' 'It is very, very beautiful,' said she, 'and I shall be always proud of the inscription .-- Come, Ronald, we must be going.' She bowed to me as a lady bows to her equal, and passed on (I could have sworn) with a heightened colour.
I was overjoyed: my innocent ruse had succeeded; she had taken my gift without a hint of payment, and she would scarce sleep in peace till she had made it up to me.

No greenhorn in matters of the heart, I was besides aware that I had now a resident ambassador at the court of my lady.

The lion might be ill chiselled; it was mine.

My hands had made and held it; my knife--or, to speak more by the mark, my rusty nail--had traced those letters; and simple as the words were, they would keep repeating to her that I was grateful and that I found her fair.