“Must we then part?”
They were folded in each other’s arms. There never was such kissing.
“How shall we henceforth exchange the sweet tokens of our undying affection, my Otto?”
“Alas, my Aurelia, I know not! Thy Otto blushes to acquaint thee that he cannot write.”
“Blush not, my Otto, thou needest not reproach thyself. Even couldest thou write, thy Aurelia could not read. Oh these dark ages!”
They remained some minutes gazing on each other with an expression of fond perplexity. Suddenly the damsel’s features assumed the aspect of one who experiences the visitation of a happy thought. Gently yet decidedly she pronounced:
“We will exchange rings.”
They drew off their rings simultaneously. “This, Aurelia, was my grandfather’s.”
“This, Otto, was my grandmother’s, which she charged me with her dying breath never to part with save to him whom alone I loved.”
“Mine is a brilliant, more radiant than aught save the eyes of my Aurelia.”