Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1926-01-01
THE ROOM
OF THE
PURPLE RAY
"a BY Short STORY Pub. Coz
By DON MARK LEMON

IOUR months dIter lne shlt waves
Hhad laid at his feet the cold
i form of his Love, came the news
that Herbert Munson was the
possessor Of a startling secret. He
had, II was stated, discovered
Purple Ray that would wither and de-
stroy certain human cells of memory
without injury or danger to neigh
boring cells. This rumor was fol-
lowed by the still more amazing re-
port that Munson had erected the
Mansion of Forgetfulness, to which
all who would free their minds Of a
hopeless passion might repair, and In
one brief hour, forget.
And, sure enough. here they came
those who loved not wisely but too
well, those who loved deeply but
hopelessly, and those who loved the
dead and could endure the grief no
longer-and the Purple Ray 'plucked
from the memory its rooted sorrow"
and they went forth from the Man
sion Of Forgetfulness unscarred and
fancy-free.
Yet he who showed others how to
forget would not himself forget. 1t
was agony to know that she was dead,
and he would never see her face
again, yet he shrank from forgetful-
ness as the soul shrlnks from oblivion.
Try as he would, he could not drag
himself from the haunted halls of
memory, though he remembered that
the world without was wonderfully
fair, and other women, perhaps as
lovely as she, were waiting there to
love and be loved. No! Let others for
get, he would not Not that he lived
in hope, for had he not kissed the
salt foam from her dead face? But
that memory was all that remained Of
n Love who was no more.
He watched them come and go
watched the many, ali, too many, pill
grims arrive with sorrowful, love
haunted faces, but depart with uncon-
cerned, care-free looks, and at times
he feared that his philanthropy was a
sacrilege. There seemed something I'M
holy in this sudden transmutation Of
grief into gladness-this swift thrust
ing aside Of their own free will to
forget a hopeless passion, and they
could now return whence they came
and love again, more wisely If less
deeply.
Some came, thinking to blot out
other memories than that of hope
less love-memories of sin and crime
but the Purple Ray would not be
thwarted to such base purposes, and
they left, abashed and disappointed.
It was In winter when the snow
was changed to crystal as 1t fell upon
the walls and cornlces Of the beautiful
marble edifice, or piled Itself In drifts
Of sifted diamonds against the stained
glass windows, when lady came
alone across the wales and entered the
broad gateway of the Mansion of For
getfulness.
Something In her manner-perhaps
her agtated hesitation at the portals
moved the master to accost her.
"Kind friend" he sald "were It not
better to remember what you now seek
to forget?" AS he spoke he drew
closer about his face the cowl he wore
to conceal his identity from the merely
curious.
A sigh was the only immediate
answer, as the pilgrim leaned YEARLY
against a marble pillar Then came
the low spoken words:
perhaps may only half forget.
would remember, yet not remember
so acutely."
mo, you will wholly forget. The
Purple Ray Is oblivion itself"
"Ah, well, better I kill these pain
full memories than break my heart |"
''Then, If It must be so, enter and
forget"
"Show me the way and let me go
quickly" was the plea of the yelled
lady. 81 have come far, and the worst
is only few steps farther on"
"Come, thenp and the master led
the way to the room Of the Purple
Ray.
An hour passed, when the door was
opened and the yelled visitor came
forth and descended the broad stair
way. She moved quickly and lightly,
and at the foot of the stairs she
laughed unsteady as she again met
the master.
"Have you forgotten" he asked.
Forgotten know that have for
gotten something, else why am here,
yet ! do not know what l have for
gotten"
$50 they all sayw
A flush of rosy light shone from a
slender window overhead, halolng the
pilgrim like saint.
"How beautiful everything Isl" she
exclaimed. "Why do wear this veilF
/ will no longerl"
So saying, she loosened 1t, disclos-
ing face young and exquisitely fair.
The man shrank back as If pierced
by bolt.
my God, it is her spirltw he
gasped.
"No, mol" protested the visitor. 81
am not spirit, and fear ! am too,
too human"
you are Morellap whispered the
man, staring before him like one peer
ing through intense darkness.
81 am. Who are you that you askf"
"Morellal l thought you deadl /
kissed you for dead and then the
waves swept me away and l saw you
no more"
Some fishermen once found me on
sandy beach, where they said had
tainted. Who are your
The man drew back his cowl