eleven o'clock
`` Ay , ye 're richt , miss , '' he replied complacently . `` She 'd see that Inchcawdy canna compeer wi ' us ; we 've patronised her weel in Pettybaw ! '' Truly , as Stevenson says , ` he who goes fishing among the Scots peasantry with condescension for a bait will have an empty basket by evening . ' At eleven o'clock a boy arrived at Bide-a-Wee with an interesting-looking package , which I promptly opened . That dear foolish lover of mine -LRB- whose foolishness is one of the most adorable things about him -RRB- makes me only two visits a day , and is therefore constrained to send me some reminder of himself in the intervening hours , or minutes -- a book , a flower , or a note . Uncovering the pretty box , I found a long , slender -- something -- of sparkling silver . `` What is it ? ''