"Never mind; it is I who am the culprit, not you. Will you have the other? Say the word, and it is yours. It is a pity to leave it neglected here, now its companion is gone," and he moved towards the flower.
"Indeed I would rather not. One will be quite enough for Mrs. Linchmore, and, besides, I have so many flowers now."
"They are not for yourself, then? I could almost quarrel with you for culling them for anyone else."
"I never wear flowers," replied Amy, somewhat chillingly, with a slight touch of hauteur, as she moved away.
But he would not have it so, and claimed her attention again.
"Why do you pass over this sweet flower? just in your path, too; I do not know its name, I am so little of a gardener, but I am sure it would grace your bouquet; see what delicate white blossoms it has."
"Yes it is very pretty, but I have enough flowers, thank you."
"You will not surely refuse to accept it," and at the same moment he severed it from its stem. "Will you give me the Camellia in exchange?"
"No. I would rather not have it."
"It is a pity I gathered it," and he threw it on the ground, and made as though he would have crushed it with his foot.