“I am sorry to hear that. What has he done?”
“Well he—he—I can’t recall now just what it is—it is something very bad, though, you may be sure.” The old gentleman smiled pleasantly, totally unconscious of the fact that he was wringing the heart strings of the creature he loved better than his life.
“I see,” said the doctor thoughtfully. “I must be going now.”
“Well, I’m sorry to have you go. I am going to come to your office soon to have you look me over, not that I am ill—never better in my life,” he added hastily, “but I have a funny way of going to sleep in spots here lately. No doubt it is indigestion, and perhaps I must let up on Aunt Sally’s good food.”
“No doubt! No doubt! Anyhow, come let me look you over.”
Mary Louise followed Dr. Coles to the front door.
“What do you think?” she asked anxiously.
“There is no doubt that his mind is failing rapidly.”
“But see how sanely he talked about the past!”
“That is often the case. Old persons seem to be able to remember the most remarkable things that happened in their youth and still the present is often blurred. You noticed he could not even remember what fancied grievance he had against your husband. He was sure there was something, but he could not remember just what it was. It is common in such cases for the person to take a strange unreasoning dislike to some one, often the very person of whom he has been most fond. I am glad it is your husband and not you he has turned against.”