Jessie’s heart throbbed with pride and joy, but she still trembled violently from the struggle with Doyle.
She half sobbed:
“Oh, I never can thank you enough for driving him away! If he had kissed me—oh, I should have died of disgust!”
“Died of a kiss, ha, ha!” laughed the young man gayly, so amused at the idea that it took firm hold of his memory, to be recalled at a fateful aftertime.
“Have you never been kissed by a young man, then, little Jessie?” he added, still laughing.
“Oh, no, no, never!” blushing deeply.
“Then he will be a lucky young fellow who gets the first kiss from you! I wonder who he will be! Can you guess?”
The great, dark eyes stole a shy glance at him under the drooping lashes, as she whispered demurely:
“Only the man I shall marry!”
“Oh, indeed!”