“Do you call aviation an art?”
“Yes, an Art with a big A! It’s a science as well, to be sure; it’s also a mechanical process and—it’s largely sheer luck!”
“I’m glad Mr. Van Reypen is doing well. He has a cool head, you know.”
“Yes, and that’s a great thing. A steady nerve, and mental poise come first in the requirements for a successful flyer. When are you to be married, Miss Fairfield?”
“Good gracious! You take my breath away with your sudden questions. Incidentally, they are a bit rude. Do you ask about such personal matters in your home town?”
Herron had the grace to blush. But he said, slowly, “I suppose I would, if I cared as much to know as I do in this case.”
“Why?”
“Why? You know why! You must know! Because I’m over head and ears in love with you, myself! Because, though it would add to my misery to know you’re to be married soon, yet it would be a blessed relief to know it would not be soon!”
“I cannot see, Lieutenant Herron, that these matters concern you at all,” said Patty, icily, and then the look of pained reproach he gave her smote her heart. For Patty was a gentle soul, and rarely hurt the feelings of anybody.
“I think I must ask you to drop this subject and never refer to it again.” But she spoke softly, and shook off her air of offended dignity.