LVII
WHEN A GIRL LOVES A MAN
A youth asks me how he can tell whether a girl loves him or not. Well, son, you can’t always tell. There are times when all signs fail, and there is no man so clever, so discerning, so sophisticated that a woman cannot fool him if she set her mind to doing so. For the many generations in which women were entirely subservient to men, and in which they had to get everything they had out of men, and in which all their pleasures and perquisites depended on their wheedling and cajoling men, have made them gifted liars and adept at befooling men.
However, the modern girl, being able to make her own living, and stand upon her own feet, and therefore being to a large degree independent of men, has less need to simulate emotions which she does not feel, and so she has lost the fine technique of her mother and her grandmother and her great-great-great grandmother. Flirting has become a lost art, and the methods of the gold-digger are so crude and raw that any man who is taken in by one deserves all he gets. The average girl is almost brutally frank about the state of her feelings. She hasn’t even subtlety enough about her to keep a man guessing.
But there is, of course, a sort of no-man’s land that lies between liking and loving in which the girl wanders, herself as uncertain and bewildered as you are. And, I take it, it is across this dangerous terrain that you wish to be guided. Sally is dear and sweet to you. She apparently enjoys your society, and you never have any trouble in making dates with her. She is the best little pal ever. But what you want to know is whether she cares for you just as she does for half a dozen other chaps, or whether you are the ONLY ONE.
First, Is she willing to sit at home of an evening with you or not? If she comes down with her hat on to receive you, or if she always wants to step out somewhere, you have not touched her heart. She regards you merely as a purveyor of good times, a theater ticket and a dancing partner, and any other youth who had the price would do as well. But things have got serious with her when she proposes to spend the evening at home under a pink-shaded lamp. That shows that she has begun to live a romance with more thrills to it than anything she can see depicted on the stage, and that she thinks that Valentino is a poor dub at love-making compared to you. Also it indicates that she desires to isolate you, to cut you out from the herd and put her brand upon you. Cupid is essentially a monopolist. Especially the Lady Cupid. The first thing that a woman does when she falls in love with a man is to try to shut him away from all other women. So long as a girl wants to go in crowds there is nothing doing with her in the love line. If she really cares for you, she will maneuver to get you off to herself.
Next. Observe how a girl treats your pocketbook. If she gets everything out of you that she can; if, when you go out, she has to have a taxi to convey her three blocks, although she can walk ten miles around a department store without turning a hair; if she always suggests orchids when flowers are mentioned, and invariably picks out the most expensive places to dance and the highest-priced dishes on the menu, you may be certain that she has no serious intentions concerning you. You are merely the good thing that a merciful Providence has brought forward for her sustenance. But when a girl begins to talk economy to a boy; when she suggests going to the movies instead of to the theatre; when she orders a ham sandwich instead of a chicken breast and mushrooms under glass, it is an unmistakable sign that she is regarding his bankroll as her own and is commencing to save up for furniture for her future home.
Next—and this is an acid test—talk to the girl about yourself and observe her reaction to it. Monologue along to her by the hour about what you are doing, about what you have done in the past and what you expect to do in the future. Tell her all about what you said to the boss and what the boss said to you. Explain to her all the details of the grocery business. Regale her with reminiscences of your childhood, when you were a fat little boy with green freckles on your hands.
If she yawns in your face or if she listens with the expression of a martyr being nailed to the cross; if she gets up and walks around the room or turns on the radio or interrupts you to ask what you think of the President’s foreign policy, you may as well abandon hope. Her affection is merely gold plated, not the real thing. But if she laps up your talk about yourself and asks for more; if she begs you to repeat that darling story of how naughty you were to your nurse, and if she sits, goggle-eyed with excitement, on the edge of her chair while you relate how you sold a bill of goods to a hard customer, rest assured that her heart is yours for keeps. For there are only two women in the world, a man’s mother and the woman who is his wife or hopes to be his wife, who want to hear him talk about himself.
Take note also of a girl’s attitude toward you. As long as she regards you as an intelligent, husky, able-bodied man, capable of taking care of yourself and with sense enough to come in out of the rain, her regard for you is merely platonic. But when a girl suddenly becomes anxious about the state of your health, when she worries over your getting your feet wet and is afraid you are not getting enough vitamines in your diet, when she warns you not to forget to put on your overcoat if it is cold and to look out for automobiles when you cross the street, then it is safe to begin pricing engagement rings.
Of course, there are other signs of love, such as a girl developing an acute attack of domesticity and passing up the display of French frocks in a window for that of aluminum pots and pans, and especially when she begins dragging a man to church with her, which are not to be ignored. But when a maiden begins to mother a chap and indicates that her idea of spending a perfectly hilarious evening is just to be alone with him, listening to him talk about himself, she is his for the taking.