She was all changed again, to the clocked stockings.
"Are we not to have our walk to-day ?" said she.
I was looking at her in a maze.

"Where is your brooch ?" says I.
She carried her hand to her bosom and coloured high.

"I will have forgotten it," said she.

"I will run upstairs for it quick, and then surely we'll can have our walk ?" There was a note of pleading in that last that staggered me; I had neither words nor voice to utter them; I could do no more than nod by way of answer; and the moment she had left me, climbed into the tree and recovered my flower, which on her return I offered her.
"I bought it for you, Catriona," said I.
She fixed it in the midst of her bosom with the brooch, I could have thought tenderly.
"It is none the better of my handling," said I again, and blushed.
"I will be liking it none the worse, you may be sure of that," said she.
We did not speak so much that day, she seemed a thought on the reserve though not unkindly.

As for me, all the time of our walking, and after we came home, and I had seen her put my flower into a pot of water, I was thinking to myself what puzzles women were.