"I do not know," replied Fritz, slyly, "whether this misfortune did not originate earlier. When you were quite a little girl I kissed you once."
"I do not remember that," said Laura.
"It was for a basket of colored beans that I brought you from our garden. I demanded the kiss, and you consented to give the price, but immediately after wiped your mouth with your hand. From that time I have liked you better than all others."
"Do not let us talk of these things," said Laura, troubled; "my recollections of old times are not all so harmless."
"I have always been kept at a distance," exclaimed Fritz, "even to-day. It is a shame. It must not go on so; I must have some serious talk about it. Travelling together as we are, it is not fitting that we should use the stiff you in talking to one another."
Laura looked reproachfully at him. "Not to-day," she said, softly.
"It is of no use now," replied Fritz, boldly. "I will no longer be treated as a stranger. I once heard the honest thou from you, but never since. It pains me."
Laura regretted that. "But only when we are quite alone," she entreated.
"I propose it for all time," continued Fritz, undisturbed, "otherwise there will be continually mistakes and confusion."
He offered her his hand, which she shook gently, and before she could stop him she felt a kiss on her lips.