Helen had come home. She preferred living with mother and myself,
rather than opening up Jim's house, which she had been told belonged to
her. Yes, her memory of past events was still gone, and each night I
sat with her and repeated bits here and there of the experiences through
which she had lived. Every now and then a thought would come to her and
she would be able to fill in parts of the narrative, but this was
seldom. In a way, it was fortunate, for I was able to leave out all the
sordid details of her past and give her only the recollections worth
keeping. As soon as she is quite strong, Doctor Forbes is going to
reconstruct the tragedy for her, and he says he has every reason to
believe that he will be successful in restoring her memory. In the
meantime, she is entirely happy and content, and more beautiful than
ever.
Mary had not spoken to me for a month. Somehow we could not get
together. I realized how hasty and peremptory I had been in commanding
her not to go with Woods, and I tried in a thousand different ways to
make her realize that I was sorry. Whenever I found we were to be
invited to the same dance or supper party, I lay awake half the night
before, planning how I would approach her; what she would say and what I
would say. It was a delightful game to play, because I always came out
the victor. I made her say and do just the things that would make a
reconciliation easy, but when we actually met, it was vastly different.
We were both invited to the Rupert-Smiths' ball, and I made up my mind
that before the evening was over, I would be back in her good graces, on
the same old footing. As much as I hated being treated like a younger
brother, it was far better than being treated like a stepchild.
As soon as I saw her come into the ballroom, I hurried toward her, but
at that moment the orchestra began a fox-trot and she whirled away in
the arms of young Davis, smiling into his face as though she adored him.
Davis holds a girl so tightly that it is actually indecent, but she
seemed to enjoy it.
I was by her side, almost before the music stopped, but she turned away
without looking in ray direction and, literally hanging on Davis' arm,
made her way from the ballroom.
I finally caught her alone while she was waiting for some yokel to get
her a glass of punch.
"Mary, may I have a dance?" I blurted out.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson, but my program is full," she answered
sweetly--too sweetly.
"But there aren't any programs," I insisted.
"Nor have I any dances left," she countered.
"Mary, I'm awfully sorry--"
"Oh! There you are, Mr. Steel," she laughed over my shoulder, "I almost
thought you had forgotten me." I fled, leaving that ass, Steel, cooing
the most puerile rot about how he couldn't forget her and so forth.
I called up Anne McClintock before the McClintock dinner and begged her
as my guardian angel to put me next to Mary. She agreed on condition
that she could put that Sterns woman, the parlor Bolshevic, on the other
side of me. I consented, and through the entire dinner, Mary talked to
old Grandfather McClintock about the labor disputes although she doesn't
know the difference between a strike-out and a lock-out. She actually
seemed perfectly contented to shout into that old man's ear all evening,
though I did everything to get her attention except spill my plate in
her lap. Afterward I heard her telling that Sterns woman what a
charming couple we'd make. I tried to call on Mary twice and both times
she was out--to me.
Finally people began to see that there was a serious difference between
us and they avoided inviting us to small parties together, so that I saw
her at only the largest, most formal and most stupid functions.
I had told Helen one day that I would be late to dinner on account of an
important case. About three o'clock in the afternoon, however, I found
that a certain book I needed was at the house, so I jumped into the car
and went up after it. Mary's electric was out in front. For a moment I
contemplated flight, Mary so obviously disliked me, but being determined
that no girl in the world could keep me from going where I pleased, I
trotted up the steps.
The door opened just as I reached the porch, and disclosed Mary hastily
saying "Good-by" to Helen. The sight of her leaving, so as to avoid
meeting me, angered me and some piratical old forebear of mine came down
from above or came up from below at that moment and perched on my right
shoulder.
"Treat 'em rough!" he whispered.