"It doesn't appear to be making him unhappy."
"But he doesn't know—yet."
"Then he's really serious? I wasn't quite sure."
She sighed.
"I wish he wasn't. How girls can like to make men fall in love with them I can't conceive. He's such a splendid fellow, too."
"He's a man, every inch of him," I offered by way of comfort. "It won't hurt him to love a good woman even if he doesn't win her. He'll recover, but it will do him a lot of good first."
"Would you feel so complacent if it were you?" she asked slyly, with a flash of merry eyes.
We happened to be in the shadow of the smokestack. After the interlude I expounded my philosophy more at length.
"He's young yet—at least his heart is. A man has to love a nice girl or two before he is educated to know the right one when he meets her. I don't pity Yeager—not a great deal, anyhow. It's life, you know," I concluded cheerfully.
"Oh, I see. A man has to love a nice girl or two as an educative process." Her voice trailed into the rising inflection of a question. "Then the right girl ought to thank me for helping to prepare Mr. Yeager for her—if I am."