Even in college Alfred Hardy was a young man of fixed ideas and high
ideals and proud of it.
His friend, Jimmy Jinks, had few ideas and no ideals, and was glad of
it, and before half of their first college term had passed, Jimmy
had ridded himself of all such worries as making up his own mind or
directing his own morals. Alfred did all these things so much better,
argued Jimmy, furthermore, Alfred LIKED to do them--Jimmy owed it to his
friend to give him that pleasure.
The fact that Jimmy was several years Alfred's senior and twice his
size, in no way altered his opinion of Alfred's judgment, and through
their entire college course they agreed as one man in all their
discussions--or rather--in all Alfred's discussions.
But it was not until the close of their senior year that Alfred favoured
Jimmy with his views on matrimony.
Sitting alone in a secluded corner of the campus waiting for Alfred to
solve a problem in higher mathematics, Jimmy now recalled fragments of
Alfred's last conversation.
"No twelve dollar shoes and forty dollar hats for MY wife," his young
friend had raged and he condemned to Jimmy the wicked extravagance of
his own younger sisters. "The woman who gets me must be a home-maker.
I'll take her to the theatre occasionally, and now and then we'll have a
few friends in for the evening; but the fireside must be her magnet, and
I'll be right by her side each night with my books and my day's worries.
She shall be taken into my confidence completely; and I'll take good
care to let her know, before I marry her, just what I expect in return."
"Alfred certainly has the right idea about marriage," mused Jimmy, as
the toe of his boot shoved the gravel up and down the path. "There's
just one impractical feature about it." He was conscious of a slight
feeling of heresy when he admitted even ONE flaw in his friend's scheme
of things. "Where is Alfred to find such a wife?"
Jimmy ran through the list of unattached girls to whom Alfred had thus
far presented him. It was no doubt due to his lack of imagination, but
try as he would, he could not see any one of these girls sitting by the
fireside listening to Alfred's "worries" for four or five nights each
week. He recalled all the married women whom he had been obliged,
through no fault of his own, to observe.
True, all of them did not boast twelve dollar shoes or forty dollar
hats--for the very simple reason that the incomes or the tempers of
their husbands did not permit of it. In any case, Jimmy did not remember
having seen them spend many evenings by the fireside. Where then was
Alfred to find the exceptional creature who was to help "systematise his
life"? Jimmy was not above hoping that Alfred's search might be a long
one. He was content for his friend to go jogging along by his side,
theorising about marriage and taking no chances with facts. Having come
to this conclusion, he began to feel uneasy at Alfred's non-appearance.
Alfred had promised to meet him on this spot at four-thirty, and Alfred
had decided ideas about punctuality. It was now five-thirty. Ought Jimmy
to look for him, or would he be wiser to remain comfortably seated and
to try to digest another of his friend's theories?