“And me too,” she answered, crossing her wet arms, and looking at me as I stood there in my shirt-sleeves. Our eyes met and yet we could not seem to look each other in the face; between us the water filled and ran over the rim of the bucket, and at last she spoke again, “Come in and sit down a minute.”
“I must be getting on, thank you,” I said, “as I am rather in a hurry.”
“Slow to come, and quick to go,” said she. “I don’t see why you came at all, then?”
“I was only taking a stroll about here,” said I calmly.
“Money and time must be cheap where you come from.”
“Oh! when I get an idea in my head I never count the cost.”
“The same old looney still I see!” said she, laughing, and “Once a fool, always a fool!” was my answer. We walked slowly in, and she closed the yard gate behind us, shutting us in alone, among the hens which clucked about our feet. She crossed over and shut,—or maybe opened,—the big doors of the barn, and spoke a word to the watch-dog, but I saw that it was to cover her embarrassment, and that all the men were off in the fields. I talked as fast as I could, about farming, chicken raising, pigeons, ducks, pigs, and all the creatures that ever came out of the ark; but all at once she stopped me.
“Breugnon!” My breath came short as I looked at her. “Breugnon,” she said again, and then, “Kiss me!” My lips were on hers, before the words were well off them, and though at our age there is not much to be got out of kissing, it is always a pleasure, and it fairly brought the tears to my eyes to feel her soft wrinkled cheeks against mine.
“Old silly!” said I to myself; “what is there to cry for?”
“You are as bristly as a hedgehog!” she said, laughing.