The girl looked at him inquiringly, waiting for what he had to say.
“I mean, Kitty, alone.”
“I am Kitty Alone,” observed she, with a smile.
“I don’t mean that. I have something I want to say to you.”
“What is it?” said she. “You look very odd.”
“It’s—it’s—the silver peninks.”
“What of them?”
It must be premised that the “silver peninks” are the narcissus poeticus.
“They are in an orchard.”
“I know it,” said Kate. “Lovely they are—and yet, somehow, I like the daffodils as well.”