"Then I shall have to console myself with the past again and let my memories compensate me," he began after a brief silence; "who would believe that those stern and firmly closed lips knew how to kiss so sweetly years ago!"
"You mean to begin on your shameless inventions again, do you? But let me tell you that I won't listen to such irritating nonsense any longer."
"Be calm! Just this once more we will direct our gaze back to those golden hours and more particularly to the last kiss that you gave me; I remember the circumstances as clearly and distinctly as if it were to-day, and I am sure that you do too. I was thirteen and you about ten and it was several years since we had kissed each other, for we felt very old and grown-up. But there was to be a pleasant ending after all--or was it the lark, the herald of the morn? It was a beautiful Whitmonday--"
"No, Ascension--" interrupted Hermine, but broke off in the middle of the word.
"You are right, it was a glorious Ascension Day in the month of May and we were on an excursion with a party of young people, we two being the only children among them; you stuck close to the big girls and I to the older boys and we disdained to play with each other or even to talk. After we had walked hither and yon we sat down in a bright grove of tall trees and began to play forfeits; for evening was coming on and the party did not want to go home without a few kisses. Two of them were condemned to kiss each other with flowers in their mouths without dropping them. After they, and the couple that tried it after them, had failed, you suddenly came running up to me without a trace of embarrassment, with a lily-of-the-valley in your mouth, stuck another between my lips and said, 'Try it!' Sure enough, both blossoms fell to join their sisters on the ground, but, in your eagerness, you kissed me all the same. It felt as if a beautiful, light-winged butterfly had alighted, and involuntarily I put up two finger-tips to catch it. The others thought I wanted to wipe my lips and laughed at me."
"Here we are at the shore," said Hermine and jumped out. Then she turned round again pleasantly to Karl.
"Because you sat so still and treated my word with the respect due to it," she said, "I will, if necessary, go out with you again before four weeks have passed and will write you a note to say when. That will be the first writing I have ever confided to you."
With that she hurried to the house. Karl rowed rapidly to the public landing so as not to miss the blast of the worthy buglers that pierced the mild air like a jagged razor.
On his way through the street he encountered Ruckstuhl and Spörri who were slightly tipsy; greeting them pleasantly and familiarly, he grasped the former by the arm and began to praise and flatter him.
"What the devil have you been up to again? What new trick have you been planning, you schemer? You're certainly the grandest sharpshooter in the whole canton, in all Switzerland, I should say."