“Any girl’s eyes would flash at your insinuations,” she said, with a sudden bright smile.
“But now I know you are chaffing, I don’t mind.”
As a matter of fact, Herron’s eyes were snapping maliciously, but Patty ignored this, and deftly turned the subject.
“When do you go back to the Aviation Field?” she inquired.
“Tomorrow, alas! I had hoped for longer leave, but a new class is to be trained, and I must be on the job.”
“I can’t help marvelling at the courage and bravery of an aviator. It seems to me that you take your life in your hands ever more desperately and dangerously than those actually at the front.”
“In a sense, we do,” agreed Herron, a little gravely. “As the darky said, ‘If yuh gets killed on the ground, yuh knows where yuh is; but if yuh gets killed up in de air,—where is yuh?’”
“Yes, but the proportion continually grows smaller, of course, as we learn more of the art.”
“Yes, an Art with a big A! It’s a science as well, to be sure; it’s also a mechanical process and—it’s largely sheer luck!”
“I’m glad Mr. Van Reypen is doing well. He has a cool head, you know.”
“Yes, and that’s a great thing. A steady nerve, and mental poise come first in the requirements for a successful flyer. When are you to be married, Miss Fairfield?”
“Good gracious! You take my breath away with your sudden questions. Incidentally, they are a bit rude. Do you ask about such personal matters in your home town?”
Herron had the grace to blush. But he said, slowly, “I suppose I would, if I cared as much to know as I do in this case.”
“Why? You know why! You must know! Because I’m over head and ears in love with you, myself! Because, though it would add to my misery to know you’re to be married soon, yet it would be a blessed relief to know it would _not_ be soon!”
“I cannot see, Lieutenant Herron, that these matters concern you at all,” said Patty, icily, and then the look of pained reproach he gave her smote her heart. For Patty was a gentle soul, and rarely hurt the feelings of anybody.
“I think I must ask you to drop this subject and never refer to it again.” But she spoke softly, and shook off her air of offended dignity.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, “truly I didn’t mean to! But I couldn’t help it. You’re right, it’s none of my business, and I apologise. Come, I see you’re ready to leave here, let us go and buy a valentine, which you shall send to your betrothed, and then you’ll forgive me.”