They both laughed then at their absurdity.

“I only wish,” she said, seeming to grow serious again, “I only wish you were not so even-tempered and reasonable.”

“Lawyers must be reasonable. It would not do if we burst into tears or shouted with laughter in the midst of arguing a case. No one would respect or trust us.”

She waved a hand imperiously. “I want you to burn for me and swear you cannot wait until October!”

“Oh,” he said drily, “I burn for you.”

“Do you?” she said doubtfully. “Tell me how.”

“I—burn. That’s all.”

She took his hand and kissed the back of it. “And I for you.”

“That’s improper. Girls are supposed to be cool and ‘unawakened.’”

“Well, I’m fully awake, I’m happy to tell you. Kiss me, Adam?”

His lips touched hers lightly, but no other part of him touched her.

“I’ve seen you kiss Aunt Edna with more fervor.”

He laughed. “Well, you see—she’s my granny, and that’s proper.”

“You are far too proper!” she declared.

“Upon my soul! You describe me as hateful and prim, unfeeling and cold. I wonder that you’re willing to marry me at all.”

“I guess it’s because I don’t know anyone else.”

“You know everyone in the county.”

“Perhaps then it’s because I saw you first and got used very early to the idea that you are perfect. You are not perfect. You are sorely flawed.”

“Of course I am, and so are you.”

“How can you say so! You must consider me a paragon of every virtue!”

“But you’re not. You are a spoiled young girl.”

“Am I?” she wailed.

“No,” he said quickly. “You are a paragon of—every other virtue. That must satisfy you—and now we must be going.”

“Not yet, please.”

“I’m to be in court at ten o’clock.”

“That’s hours away.”

“It isn’t, and I must go over the case again in my mind.”

“What is the case about?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!”

“My client, Orin Swerdlow, claims that one Peter Constable allows his cattle to trespass on his, Orin Swerdlow’s, land and that—”

“No, don’t tell me.”

“You see?” He walked back toward the horses, both of whom had begun to shift their weight and stamp their feet, impatient of standing about in the cold. She ran after him and grabbed him from behind and began to tickle him on the ribs. Laughing, he pulled free. “Stop! Mercy! Stop—”

“Kiss me.” He did so. “No. Kiss me really, and then I shall let you go.” He kissed her again. She slipped her arms about his waist and held him. “Adam, you are sweet. Only do not be too ‘reasonable’ with me.” He kissed her again slowly, and they held each other until he made a sudden effort to part them. “No!” she said, holding on to him.