"And where were you—that time?" asked the girl timidly, watching his face.
"Oh, a long way off. Don't ask of that. I'm not thinking of that spring now any more. It was only to tell you—who it was showed me that the autumn can be lovely, too."
"Did someone show you that?"
"Yes, someone showed me—or, rather, I saw it the moment I set eyes on her."
He took the girl's hands in his, and looked into her eyes.
"It was a little cluster of rowan berries. When I saw you, you were like a young red rowan on the hillside. The birch was fading already, the ash stood solemn and dull, but you were there with the red berries, calling to me—no, not calling, but I saw you. And I stood and looked as if a miracle had come, and said to myself, should I speak to her, or just go by?"
"If you had just gone by…."
"I thought of going by—seeing I'm one that has no right ever to stay…. I couldn't see if it was right to stop and look at you."
"Now I don't quite understand."
"You can't understand it at all—'twas only something I was trying to think out myself…. But I did stop and look—and 'tis thanks to that I've had this lovely autumn, after all."