Catriona

Page 105

There were times when I have

thought to myself, "If she were over head in love, and set her cap

to catch me, she would scarce behave much otherwise;" and then I

would fall again into wonder at the simplicity of woman, from whom

I felt (in these moments) that I was not worthy to be descended.

There was one point in particular on which our warfare turned, and

of all things, this was the question of her clothes. My baggage

had soon followed me from Rotterdam, and hers from Helvoet. She

had now, as it were, two wardrobes; and it grew to be understood

between us (I could never tell how) that when she was friendly she

would wear my clothes, and when otherwise her own. It was meant

for a buffet, and (as it were) the renunciation of her gratitude;

and I felt it so in my bosom, but was generally more wise than to

appear to have observed the circumstance.

Once, indeed, I was betrayed into a childishness greater than her

own; it fell in this way. On my return from classes, thinking upon

her devoutly with a great deal of love and a good deal of annoyance

in the bargain, the annoyance began to fade away out of my mind;

and spying in a window one of those forced flowers, of which the

Hollanders are so skilled in the artifice, I gave way to an impulse

and bought it for Catriona. I do not know the name of that flower,

but it was of the pink colour, and I thought she would admire the

same, and carried it home to her with a wonderful soft heart. I

had left her in my clothes, and when I returned to find her all

changed and a face to match, I cast but the one look at her from

head to foot, ground my teeth together, flung the window open, and

my flower into the court, and then (between rage and prudence)

myself out of that room again, of which I slammed she door as I

went out.

On the steep stair I came near falling, and this brought me to

myself, so that I began at once to see the folly of my conduct. I

went, not into the street as I had purposed, but to the house

court, which was always a solitary place, and where I saw my flower

(that had cost me vastly more than it was worth) hanging in the

leafless tree. I stood by the side of the canal, and looked upon

the ice. Country people went by on their skates, and I envied

them. I could see no way out of the pickle I was in no way so much

as to return to the room I had just left. No doubt was in my mind

but I had now betrayed the secret of my feelings; and to make

things worse, I had shown at the same time (and that with wretched

boyishness) incivility to my helpless guest.

I suppose she must have seen me from the open window. It did not

seem to me that I had stood there very long before I heard the

crunching of footsteps on the frozen snow, and turning somewhat

angrily (for I was in no spirit to be interrupted) saw Catriona

drawing near. 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.

Robert Louis Stevenson
Classic Literature Library

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