"
"Well, I can get around faster than that," said Donald
belligerently.
"Of course you can," agreed his mother. "I made that estimate
fully a year too long. But even in seven years Linda could do an
awful lot of waiting; and there are some very wonderful girls
that will be coming up six or seven years from now here at home.
You know that hereafter all the girls in the world are going to
be very much more Linda's kind of girls than they have been
heretofore. The girls who have lived through the war and who
have been intimate with its sorrow and its suffering and its
terrible results to humanity, are not going to be such heedless,
thoughtless, not nearly such selfish, girls as the world has
known in the decade just past. And there is going to be more
outdoor life, more nature study. There are going to be stronger
bodies, better food, better-cared-for young people; and every
year educational advantages are going to be greater. If you can
bring yourself to think about giving up the idea of there ever
existing any extremely personal thing between you and Linda, I am
very sure I could guarantee to introduce you to a girl who would
be quite her counterpart, and undoubtedly we could meet one who
would be handsomer."
Donald punched his pillow viciously.
"That's nice talk," he said, "and it may be true talk. But in
the first place I wish that Peter Morrison would let my girl
alone, and in the second place I don't care if there are a
thousand just as nice girls or even better-looking girls than
Linda, though any girl would be going some if she were nicer and
better looking than Linda.
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