“Now give him a good kiss,” the little wretch commanded.
Fannie gave him a kiss, but he stood unmoved save that his face grew redder.
“Oh, it's not fair to take a kiss without returning it. That's cheating,” Jo protested.
He kissed her, but with such a sober countenance! It suggested retaliation.
“Brave Sam!—you're learning,” Jo said to him. She put her pretty hand in his, and added, soothingly: “Be brave, Sam; be brave and cheer up; nobody will hurt you. When the minister comes you will stand here, and Fannie will stand beside you—like that. Please keep your hands down at your side—so—and remember you must pay attention to the minister.”
Poor, old, good-hearted Sam! It was like bitting a horse, and he needed it.
Well, he played his part rather poorly, but the wedding was successful in its main purpose, and Sam hurried away to bring his horse and buggy. He ran as he left the door-yard, like one escaping.
Jo beckoned to me, and I went with her into the sitting-room, where for a moment we stood alone. How short it was, and yet how long it has been—that little moment!
“May I kiss you once?” I asked, timidly.
She made no reply, but she let me kiss her. Dear girl! We were so young and innocent, and all these years were ahead of us, and—excuse me—I must change the subject.