“Why, go right ahead,” Mr. Craig said.
Bert bent over the piano keys and touched a note lovingly. “I guess you’ll think this is sort of funny to talk about. It’s about Doris.”
“What’s on your mind, son?” Mr. Craig said gently.
Bert reddened. “I think Doris is a wonderful girl,” he said in a low voice. “We’re sort of pals, I mean. I like having her for a friend.”
Mr. Craig smiled. “Why, that’s fine, Bert. I’m glad you do. I’m rather fond of her, myself.”
“But you don’t understand, sir,” Bert continued. “And I want to be sure you do understand how I feel. When I’m with her, I don’t exactly feel like a friend, if you know what I mean.” He hit another key. “She makes me feel as if I’d sort of ... like to take care of her and protect her from things.”
Mr. Craig’s first impulse was to chuckle. But he stopped himself and said seriously, “I’m quite glad that you’re so fond of Doris, son. You see, she’s a great one for hiding her light under a barrel. Someone near her own age can make her see how foolish some of her fears are better than her parents can.”
Bert nodded solemnly.
“But as for you,” Mr. Craig said. “I would say that you have pretty normal feelings for a boy your age. After all, a seventeen-year-old boy is getting to be pretty grown up. Naturally he finds some girls attractive.”
“I’m almost eighteen, Mr. Craig,” Bert said. “I just wanted to be sure you didn’t mind. I mean, with my background, and everything.”