“Fallen in love with the wrong woman, I suppose,” she said.

“Something of the sort—­how did you guess?” asked Ryder surprised.

Shirley coughed to hide her embarrassment and replied indifferently.

“So many boys do that.  Besides,” she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “I can hardly imagine that any woman would be the right one unless you selected her yourself!”

Ryder made no answer.  He folded his arms and gazed at her.  Who was this woman who knew him so well, who could read his inmost thoughts, who never made a mistake?  After a silence he said: 

“Do you know you say the strangest things?”

“Truth is strange,” replied Shirley carelessly.  “I don’t suppose you hear it very often.”

“Not in that form,” admitted Ryder.

Shirley had taken on to her lap some of the letters he had passed her, and was perusing them one after another.

“All these letters from Washington consulting you on politics and finance—­they won’t interest the world.”

“My secretary picked them out,” explained Ryder.  “Your artistic sense will tell you what to use.”

“Does your son still love this girl?  I mean the one you abject to?” inquired Shirley as she went on sorting the papers.

“Oh, no, he does not care for her any more,” answered Ryder hastily.

“Yes, he does; he still loves her,” said Shirley positively.

“How do you know?” asked Ryder amazed.

“From the way you say he doesn’t,” retorted Shirley.

Ryder gave his caller a look in which admiration was mingled with astonishment.

“You are right again,” he said.  “The idiot does love the girl.”

“Bless his heart,” said Shirley to herself.  Aloud she said: 

“I hope they’ll both outwit you.”

Ryder laughed in spite of himself.  This young woman certainly interested him more than any other he had ever known.

“I don’t think I ever met anyone in my life quite like you,” he said.

“What’s the objection to the girl?” demanded Shirley.

“Every objection.  I don’t want her in my family.”

“Anything against her character?”

To better conceal the keen interest she took in the personal turn the conversation had taken, Shirley pretended to be more busy than ever with the papers.

“Yes—­that is no—­not that I know of,” replied Ryder.  “But because a woman has a good character, that doesn’t necessarily make her a desirable match, does it?”

“It’s a point in her favor, isn’t it?”

“Yes—­but—­” He hesitated as if uncertain what to say.

“You know men well, don’t you, Mr. Ryder?”

“I’ve met enough to know them pretty well,” he replied.

“Why don’t you study women for a change?” she asked.  “That would enable you to understand a great many things that I don’t think are quite clear to you now.”