This time he was sure of it. There had been times in his life when he had thought himself in love, but luckily he realized the true state of affairs before too late. How much sorrow and unhappiness could be spared us mortals if we could but see what the future will bring.
Carl now thought of what had happened about a year before.
At that time he was sure he loved a girl, Dorinda, a young cloak model. He had taken lodgings temporarily in a rooming house in New York, and it so happened that Dorinda had the room over him. He had met her casually and they had taken a great liking for each other.
Dorinda was of the distinct flapper type, pretty to be sure, a good dresser, but a girl without much sense. Her one real ability, he now knew, was her art of weeping. You know the sort. The girl who crying bitterly relates her hard luck stories to arouse your sympathy and generosity. Resolved though he was against this very sort of thing, Carl like most men proved an easy, and perhaps willing, victim.
That she came home at all hours of the morning or entertained men in her rooms until late into the night did not trouble Carl. His faith told him it was all right.
Came an evening when he took her to dinner, as he had done quite regularly for some time. Dorinda leaning across the table said softly, tears in her voice, “Carl, I have wanted to talk to you of this for a long time. You know that I have taken friends to my room in the evening. I should not have done it, but I did not know better. I was wrong, but I did no wrong,” and taking his hand in hers, she pleaded, “Tell me that you believe me,” and when he assured her of his belief, Dorinda pressed his hand, and with a trembling voice whispered, “Thank you, Carl. I feel much better.”
She was relieved, but not Carl. He made her promise that she would not be so foolish in the future. And to all appearances she kept her promise.
Returning from a short business trip, however, Carl heard voices overhead until well into the morning. The following day he reminded Dorinda of her promise, but in a huff she left him without a word of explanation.
For some time they saw nothing of each other. But one evening she came to his door with an apology on her lips. And Carl, fool-like, accepted the apology. Immediately she launched into a recital of intimacy, concerning the trouble a supposed girl friend had gotten in. Carl listened quite attentively it is true, but while listening put two and two together.
But if it had not been for a few remarks between the girl and the landlady, overheard by him on his way to business, he never would have known the truth. He realized then his narrow escape. Suppose he had asked her to marry him, as he had contemplated for so long a time?