"
"I do not care about being cute, Tom," I said ernestly. "It
is a word I despize."
"Cute means kissible, Bab!" he said, in an ardent manner.
"I don't beleive in kissing."
"Well," he observed, "there is kissing and kissing."
But a nurse with a baby in a perambulater came along just
then and nothing happened worth recording. As soon as she had
passed, however, I mentioned that kissing was all right if one
was engaged, but not otherwise. And he said:
"But we are, aren't we?"
Although understood before, it had now come in full force.
I, who had been but Barbara Archibald before, was now engaged.
Could it be I who heard my voice saying, in a low tone, the
"yes" of Destiny? It was!
We then went to the corner drug-store and had some soda,
although forbiden by my Familey because of city water being
used. How strange to me to recall that I had once thought the
Clerk nice-looking, and had even purchaced things there, such as
soap and chocolate, in order to speak a few words to him!
I was engaged, dear Reader, but not yet kissed. Tom came
into our vestabule with me, and would doubtless have done so
when no one was passing, but that George opened the door
suddenly.
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