Eileen jumped and threw her arms round his broad shoulders. She pinned him in a flying hug, then jumped back again.
Jim pulled out his pipe and struck a match in studied indifference, but there was an expression in his deep, brown eyes that spoke of an inward merriment and pleasure.
And as Eileen and Phil drove off for town, Jim––with one long, slender leg crossed over the other––leaned lazily against the door-post, smoking dreamily and waving his hand.
“I guess Jim has never had a real sweetheart,” said Eileen.
“It doesn’t seem very like it,” answered Phil.
“And yet, as you can see, he really is a lady’s man from the sole of his big foot to his bronze hair.”
“Then, either he has had a sweetheart and the course didn’t run smoothly, or he has still to encounter the real Princess Charming. I have waited quite a long time for mine, you know, Eileen.”
The young lady blushed and looked away.
“And do you think you have really found her at last?” she asked.