Suddenly I remembered.
Elizabeth had tied that knot in my green silk handkerchief days and days ago. And she'd said: "That's to remind you to think mournfully of Harry at least once a day."
I'd forgotten that. More than that, I'd forgotten Harry for the moment—or for how long? Had it really been days since I had given a thought to those bitter-sweet memories of the man who used to blot out every other interest from my horizon? Had the land-work cure progressed so rapidly that other interests were beginning to keep all remembrance of Harry in the background?
I looked back to the obsession that had been the indirect cause of sending me—a love-sick wreck!—on to the land.
And now—was it possible that I'd got over it so well?
In ruefulness, relief, and surprise I drew a deep breath. Then I turned over and slept.
But I never dreamt of what else was coming to remind me of Harry—and very shortly!
CHAPTER XVII
LAND-GIRLS GO SHOPPING
"Quand on n'a pas ce qu'on aime, il faut aimer ce qu'on a."
—FRENCH PHILOSOPHER.