The Tupelo journal., 1913-09-12

n
All through that afternoon John
Cleave sat at his wife's bedside, star
ing into the wide-open eyes that saw
nothing. She lay in a stupor; there
was not the smallest movement; she
might have been a figure of marble.
Her beautiful hair had been clipped
short and hung like a ragged fringe
under the bandages that had been
placed about her head. Her hand was
as cold as marble In Johns feverish
one.
When do you expect her to recover
consciousness" asked John Of the
nurse.
AT any time" the woman answered.
To-day, tomorrow, or tomorrow week.
We can't tell-we must just hope"
"Or-never?" he asked, and Miss
Anderson turned away without an
swerfng.
1t was not until tho third afternoon
that consciousness returned. John
had watched continually ut his wife's
bedside, hardly suffering himself to
be torn away for the hastily snatched
meals and the brief intervals of sleep.
And all the while Mary had remained
in the same position and her hand was
as icily cold in Johns.
1t was about three o'clock in the at
ternoon when she stirred and spoke.
A light of consciousness came into the
eyes; she turned them upon John and
knew him. She smiled at him. and
the smile was like that which she had
worn upon their wedding morning.
"Dearest-where am II" she asked.
"At home" said John, thrilling at
the faint clasp Of her fingers. AT
home, eve to go away again"
"But why should I want to go away
from you, my ~husband?" said Mary,
smiling. II feel SO weak. Have I
been ill?"
You have met with an accident"
he answered. But thank God you are
getting well. Now you must lie still
and sleep"
She smiled up at him obediently and
for the first time the tired eyelids
fluttered down upon the eyes. Mary
slept. Her hand in Johns was moist
and warm. The nurse came in and
saw the change.
"She will live, Mr.. Cleave," she said
you didn't expect it, then?"
NO" said Miss Anderson.
"She spoke to you, you say?" in
CURED the doctor of John that even
ing. she knew you and spoke and
seemed rationale"
Absolutely rational" answered
John Cleave, and turned away. He
went into his room and on his knees
thanked God for the chance that was
to be his. His prayer was answered.
How long have we been married,
John?" Mary asked next day. 1T
seems such a long time, somehow, and
yet L know that it can't really be, an
entire year as that calendar on the
wall seems to show"
John looked at the calendar. 1t was
an old one of the preceding year, and
1t had remained on the bedroom wall,
as old calendars are apt to do when
they have become familiarized by
time.
1T is June" said Mary, "and we
were married in June. Is it a whole
year, dearest?"
John dared not tell her that it was
two years.
Dearest she whispered presently.
Put your arms round me and let me
tell you something. Do you know, all
the time was lying here this morn
ing, l have been thinking how unkind
l have been to you, and how unhappy
l have made you. l want you to for
give me, John. And l believe you can
forgive me, because the memories OF
this year of our marriage have beer
SO dear"
"It is you who must forgive me,
dearest" said John, humbly.
That night the doctor explained the
situation to him.
Your WIFE" he said, els on the high
road to recovery. Her mind is as
sound as it has ever been. The brain
trouble which l anticipated amounts
simply to this: The whole of the past
year has slipped out of her memory.
Has she had any great trouble that
could account for this?"
EYES," answered John, humbly, n
the doctor shot a keen glance at him.
Then that is the explanation" he
said. "Her mind was troubled; she
wishes to forget the episode, whatever
it was. 1t is necessary for her to for
get it in order that she may get well.
The group Of brain cells which regis
tered those memories have, so to
speak, isolated themselves from the
remainder. We could possibly awak
en- those dormant memories, but it
would be highly inadvisable to do 80.
Are you prepared to let her go
through life with no memory Of that
one year,"
Indeed, / am" said Cleave, "espe-
o,oI1x, ,;ooo xor, fbipL II ia for tho hest.