"Where shall I ride ?" And she put one foot on the hub and stepped up with the other into the wagon box.
"I'm just pulling out for Iowa," I said, my face as red as her hair, I suppose.
"_We're_ just pulling out," said she.
"I've got to move on," said I; "be careful or you'll get your dress muddy on the wheel." She couldn't have expected me to take her, of course; but I thought she looked kind of hurt.

There seemed to be something like tears in her eyes as she put her arms around my neck.
"Kiss your little step-sister good-by," she said.

"She's been a better friend of yours than you'll ever know--you big, nice, blundering greenhorn!" She laid her lips on mine.

It was the first kiss I had ever had from any one since I was a little boy; and as I half struggled against but finally returned it, it thrilled me powerfully.

Afterward I was disgusted with myself for kissing this castaway; but as I drove on, leaving her standing in the middle of the road looking after me, it almost seemed as if I were leaving a friend.