The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1931-08-21


min Parke. Strange, how clear the
matter ultimately became to her. Not
until after a long period of self-hyp-
nosis, did Mary come to realize that,
from the very beginning, she had
thrown herself consciously into a
state of mind about Ben. She had
talked herself into a condition OF
seeming to be in love with him. The
wish father TO the thought. she had
deliberately tried to force herself into
a state of mind.
The engagement TO Ben had been
the result. It had seemed TO her, dur
ing those months while the facts OF
her self-hypnosis still lasted that she
had accomplished right and righteous
ness. And then gradually, and little
horribly, ii began to dawn upon her
during those festive weeks of linen
showers. bridge parties, evenings with
Ben over blue prints of their new
bungalow, that everything she was
tasting was dead sea fruit
In tie dead OF night, Mary would
wake up with sense of oppression
in her breast, with a dread Of to-
morrow, with terror of what she was
doing.
Mary did not love Ben. She liked
him, she respected him. She even adj
mired him. The thought of him as
her husband filed her with dread
Sometimes it seemed TO Mary that
TO be free once more, to be free TO
come and go at her secretarial work.
TO be the girl once more unhampered
and Cnimpeded by the dread of mar
riage, was the one state of being that
ma,tered over and above anything that
lad ever happened. She regarded
those of her girl friends who were
still outside the pale Of matrimeny
and still unhampered by ties of en-
gagement with an envy that was as
illogical as it was unlike her.
Mary had only one desire in life
now-to be free. To be un-engaged
To see her life stretch before her once
more filed with the old ideal of some
day meeting the ultimate life COM
panion.
To be un-engaged was out OF the
question. Ben took her so for granted
Her parents were in their seventh
heaven of approval. His parents
made no effort TO conceal their pride
The community smiled. Mary was
committed. Terror, rebellion, agony,
panic rose within her, only to be hid
den by the calm, demure exterior she
showed TO the world
The day of her wedding approached
and it seemed to Mary that with ii
there descended upon her a dread Of
living that must ultimately annihilate
her. She knew that she must not go
through with this dishonest thing of
marrying Benjamin Parke.
And yet, what way out? What way
out? The question beat about in
Mary's tortured brain like a great, i'm
prisoned moth. What way cut?
She turned the question over and
ever in her hot, tired brain.
What could she do? How could she
find a way out? What did other girls
in the same predicament do? Fer
surely other girls had made her mis-
take; though they could marry a man
and then, suddenly, or gradually, real
lied that lack Of love would make
marriage intolerable
But there was nothing to do. She
couldn't do the only thing possible;
tell Benjamin that she didn't love him.
1t would seem such a simple thing.
yet it was fraught with all sorts Of
impossible complications It would
mean bringing hurt unhappiness to
her parents and his parents. She her
self would feel that she had failed-to
her family, to his family-to Ben
jamin and TO her own word. There
seemed, TO Mary, something dishon-
orable in breaking her engagement.
So what way out was there for
her?
The way out came in the form Of q
brief note delivered to her one norm
ing two weeks before her wedding
day. 1t read:
Dear Mary:
Since there Is no way Of telling you,
without hurting you, the cruel thing
which 1 am about to say, I shall say
it in the shortest way possible. Alice
Mcmahon and | were married at ten
o'clock this morning
(Signed) Ben"