Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that
month were "inclined to be capricious, which is always a barrier to a
happy married life"; but I plumped for February, because February women
"are unusually determined to have their own way, are very earnest, and
expect a full return in their companion or mates." Which he owned was
about as like Mary as anything could be.
In the end he tore the books up, stamped on them, burnt them, and went
home.
It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old
Bobbie. Have you ever seen that picture, "The Soul's Awakening"? It
represents a flapper of sorts gazing in a startled sort of way into the
middle distance with a look in her eyes that seems to say, "Surely that
is George's step I hear on the mat! Can this be love?" Well, Bobbie had
a soul's awakening too. I don't suppose he had ever troubled to think
in his life before--not really _think_. But now he was wearing his
brain to the bone. It was painful in a way, of course, to see a fellow
human being so thoroughly in the soup, but I felt strongly that it was
all for the best. I could see as plainly as possible that all these
brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge. When it was all
over he might possibly become a rotter again of a sort, but it would
only be a pale reflection of the rotter he had been.
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