"When you ask me to walk again, Yoletta," I panted, "I shall not move
unless I have a rope round your waist to pull you back when you try to
rush off in that mad fashion. You have knocked all the wind out of me;
and yet I was in pretty good trim."

She laughed, and jumping to the ground, sat down at my side on the
grass.

I caught her hand and held it tight. "Now you shall not escape and run
away again," said I.

"You may keep my hand," she replied; "it has nothing to do up here."

"May I put it to some useful purpose--may I do what I like with it?"

"Yes, you may," then she added with a smile: "There is no thorn in it
now."

I kissed it many times on the back, the palm, the wrist then bestowed a
separate caress on each finger-tip.

"Why do you kiss my hand?" she asked.

"Do you not know--can you not guess? Because it is the sweetest thing I
can kiss, except one other thing. Shall I tell you----"

"My face? And why do you not kiss that?"

"Oh, may I?" said I, and drawing her to me I kissed her soft cheek. "May