He spent half an hour in tying those twenty-four letters up again. They were not so fascinating as the job of learning to use his teeth and hand. He let the nurse return the mass of expensive note-paper to his trunk, but would not let her take his mother’s letters. Over these he laid a protecting arm, and went to sleep holding them close to his side.
Next day he read those two hundred and was sorry they were so few. She wrote of the boyish delight exhibited by his father on receiving from Dr. Grein a copy of the article on lead. She sent him a solemn parody of the article composed by mother and daughter. She told how his enlistment had stirred his oldest brother, and how Augustus had camped in Washington till he succeeded in getting a job with the Red Cross. She recorded the profanity uttered by his brother Charles when his services at Washington were finally considered more valuable than his probable services in the field. She told of his sister Anita, who was teaching shut-ins to do things that nobody thought they ever could do, and getting them paid for it. Jimmy Hogg was often in for Sunday evening supper, but never had much to say, and wouldn’t make love to Anita, though plenty of others did. She thought Jimmy pure gold, but described him as understatement incarnate. She presumed that if he were addressed in a thunder storm to the effect that it was raining, he would say that on the whole he didn’t imagine that he was prepared to deny it. In short, as Marvin read and read, he laughed and cried, and was very homesick for his mother.
And then it came over him that he did not long for Gratia. She was sweet and sensible and beautiful, but he did not care two straws if he never saw her again. He had been an idiot to ask her to marry him. It would cost him a good deal to make that proposal again, as he certainly would do. To be the one-handed husband of so elegant a creature was a sorry prospect.
He could see how it all happened. Girls had rather flung themselves at him just because he had chestnut hair, and he had taken refuge in Gratia. Offering himself to Gratia was all mixed up with offering himself to the United States. If he did not grouch about losing a hand, he must not grouch about winning the girl.
Good-by to all thoughts of radiochemistry. He must get back into fuels and show manufacturers how to stoke. He must even be glad over Gratia, and in due time give her a child.
Chapter 20. Calcium
Fully prepared to take his medicine, Marvin escaped from the hospital and took account of stock. Somewhere near Mezy his good left hand was depositing its calcium, or was at least on its cheerful deliquescent way to do so. He must get him another, as fine a piece of mechanism as the new alloys of steel could furnish. In fact he must have two, one fit for heavy work. After much investigation he got them made to suit him. One wore a glove, the other was a set of tools. He named the fine gentleman Pat, and the tools Maisie, which was about as near as he could spell Mezy in English.
Long before the armistice he was drilling troops again. And just before it was signed he received a curious note from Gratia. She was glad that the enemy was showing symptoms of collapse, because she hoped that now her friends would treat her better. He did not understand this, and wrote at once to beg for an explanation.
But when, a day or two later, a bundle of papers arrived, it threw light on that sentence of Gratia’s. His father had been criticising Asher Ferry.
Chase had been interviewed in Winnipeg, where Ferry’s name was well known to the farmers, and the reporter had asked if he were personally known to Mr. Mahan. Chase replied that he had once met Mr. Ferry at a club, but that neither of them was much of a clubman. Being asked if he did not belong to several clubs, the famous engineer admitted that he did, and humorously inquired if the reporter always went to church. Being asked if Mr. Ferry was a good American, Mr. Mahan flatly declined to discuss the gentleman further.