“Well, don’t think, if you have to look cross,” said the girl. “I’m so glad you caught us. Miss Gip here called for me to go with her to meet Mr. Rip on the Golf Links. He has his camera with him and is going to take us, and besides I want you to meet Mr. Rip; he is such a nice fellow.”
“Why did you not look to see if I was coming?” the Philosopher blurted out. He wanted to come to a decision on the facts.
“Now, you’re thinking again, I see by your face,” said the girl. “I want you to be gay and not always looking for something to grumble about. I don’t remember whether I looked or not.”
The Philosopher came to a decision.
When the Golf Links were reached Mr. Rip was soon discovered—a young man with rush of words to the mouth,—who grated on the nerves of the Philosopher, who knew in a minute that he and Rip could not both be “such a nice fellow,” which was rather vain of the Philosopher.
On the way home the Philosopher concluded that to marry the girl was no fair match; he was a heavy-weight and she was a feather-weight, no doubt; but no amount of training could train her up to his weight, or him down to her’s.
So the girl married Rip and made him happy, instead of marrying the Philosopher and making him unhappy. You must either be blind to a girl’s failings, or, knowing them, love them as part of the girl.
A little reason would prevent a lot of people from voting marriage a failure.
