I might find something to give her as a present if she came. Perhaps I
had nothing to give her but my powder-horn, I thought.

And she promised to come.

Edwarda sat with her face turned away and let me talk as much as I
pleased. She listened to what the others said, putting in a word herself
now and again. The Doctor told the young ladies' fortunes by their
hands, and talked a lot; he himself had small, delicate hands, with a
ring on one finger. I felt myself unwanted, and sat down by myself
awhile on a stone. It was getting late in the afternoon. Here I am, I
said to myself, sitting all alone on a stone, and the only creature that
could make me move, she lets me sit. Well, then, I care no more than
she.

A great feeling of forsakenness came over me. I could hear them talking
behind me, and I heard how Edwarda laughed; and at that I got up
suddenly and went over to the party. My excitement ran away with me.

"Just a moment," I said. "It occurred to me while I was sitting there
that perhaps you might like to see my fly-book." And I took it out. "I
am sorry I did not think of it before. Just look through it, if you
please; I should be only too delighted. You must all see it; there are
both red and yellow flies in it." And I held my cap in my hand as I
spoke. I was myself aware that I had taken off my cap, and I knew that
this was wrong, so I put it on again at once.

There was deep silence for a moment, and no one offered to take the
book. At last the Doctor reached out his hand for it and said politely: