‘Only on conditions—not my conditions—those of Martin. He was very particular in his instructions to me. Shut your eyes and extend your dear little finger. Next swear never, never to part with the ring I put on your finger.’ ‘That I never will. Mr. Martin had no right to take the ring. It was impertinent of him; it made me very angry. Once I get it back I will never let the ring go again.’ She opened her eyes. ‘Shut! shut!’ cried the boy: ‘and now swear.’ ‘I promise,’ said the girl. ‘That suffices.’ ‘There, then, take the ring.’ He thrust the circlet on her finger. She opened her eyes again and looked at her hand. ‘Why, boy!’ she exclaimed, ‘this is not my ring. It is another.’ ‘To be sure it is, you little fool. Do you think that Martin would return the ring you gave him? No, no. He sends you this in exchange for yours. It is prettier, Look at the blue flower on it, formed of turquoise. Forget-me-not.’ ‘I cannot keep this. I want my own,’ said Eve, pouting, and her eyes filling. ‘You must abide Martin’s time. Meanwhile retain this pledge.’ ‘I cannot! I will not!’ she stamped her foot petulantly on the oxalis and forget-me-not that grew beneath the rock, tears of vexation brimming in her eyes. ‘You have not dealt fairly by me. You have cheated me.’ ‘Listen to me, Miss Eve,’ said the boy in a coaxing tone. ‘You are a child, and have to be treated as such. Look at the beautiful stones, observe the sweet blue flower. You know what that means—Forget-me-not. Our poor Martin has to ramble through the world with a heart-ache, yearning for a pair of sparkling blue eyes, and for two wild roses blooming in the sweetest cheeks the sun ever kissed, and for a head of hair like a beech tree touched by frost in a blazing autumn’s sun. Do you think he can forget these? He carries that face of yours ever about with him, and now he sends you this ring, and that means—”Miss, you have made me very unhappy. I can never forget the little maid with eyes of blue, and so I send her this token to bid her forget me not, as I can never forget her.”’ And as Eve stood musing with pouting lips, and troubled brow, looking at the ring, the boy took his violin, and with the fingers plucked the strings to make an accompaniment as he sang:— A maiden stood beside a river, And with her pitcher seemed to play; Then sudden stooped and drew up water, But drew my heart as well away. And now I sigh beside the river, I dream about that maid I saw, I wait, I watch, am restless, weeping, Until she come again to draw. A flower is blooming by the river, A floweret with a petal blue, Forget me not, my love, my treasure! My flower and heart are both for you. He played and sang a sweet, simple and plaintive air. It touched Eve’s heart; always susceptible to music. Her lips repeated after the boy, ‘My flower and heart are both for you.’