"Are you angry?"
"I ought to be."
"Then you are not?" was the half-joyful, half-doubting interrogation.
"No," was breathed in accents so very gentle that it was conveyed to him by the movements of the lips alone.
"Shall we walk to the castle?"
"Yes."
And the young lady, studiously avoiding his eyes, was gently and passively assisted to the ground; as she touched it, his arm glided about her taper waist, and somehow their lips met, and again met, and met again, and met so often, that the horse was far out of sight before the fact forced itself on the mind of the maiden.
"Robert, desist! There! my horse has galloped off!"
"Shall I bring him to you?" asked the delighted youth, in a tone that showed he did not very much apprehend she would despatch him on such a mission.
"No, we can walk. But it is so foolish!"