An' all she said: 'Oh, I've been kissed before.'" Jean grew furious with himself for the spreading of a new sensation in his breast that seemed now to ache.

Had he become infatuated, all in a day, with this Ellen Jorth?
Was he jealous of the men who had the privilege of her kisses?
No! But his reply was hot with shame, with uncertainty.

The thing that seemed wrong was outside of himself.

A blunder was no crime.

To be attracted by a pretty girl in the woods--to yield to an impulse was no disgrace, nor wrong.