ected from a clear mind.

"And you, baby!" he answered. "At last you have taken on the sunlight.
What is it--with you?"

"Oh, my pink dress!" Mary answered promptly. "See, here is Cleo in her
sea-green, and the other girls outside are wearing, one a blue and the
other yellow. You always loved the bright colors so, Grandie, but you
know Reda would not let me have anything but white."

"Oh, yes, that was it," he replied, including a smiling greeting to
Cleo in his pleasant bow. "Yes, Reda wanted white, and it always made
me think of death."

"Now, Grandie, don't you think I am waking up, if not actually awake?"
and Mary made a pretty little curtsey with a sweep of her skirts. "Oh,
you won't know me. All the ghosts of our tropical home are melting
away. The girls are too lovely, and Mrs. Audrey Dunbar is simply the
most charming woman----"

"Dunbar, did you say, Mary? Dunbar?" he repeated a question of memory
in his voice.

"Yes," spoke Cleo quickly. "Did you ever know the name, Professor?"

"I may have, child. You see, my brain, as it grows stronger, fancies
it knows many more things than it really does. The cells seem to be
jealous of each other, and they keep prodding me to recognize their
claims on memory, one before the other, as quickly as any new,
interesting topic is mentioned. But the doctors here know, and I am
certain they will untangle the snarl presently. Then, Mary-love, we
may be able to trace our lost prize." He kissed her forehead to make
the hope more emphatic, and she, leaning close to him in his big chair,
tilted her head nearer still, acknowledging the caress.

"Perhaps you may have known some of Uncle Guy Dunbar's people,"
suggested Cleo. "I know they were all scientists. Uncle Guy is a
writer, you know." She was addressing the professor.

"It might be, little girl," he replied, a thoughtful look overspreading
his handsome, scholarly face. "But, Mary, dear, how is the studio?" he
asked.

"Just lovely, Grandie. Everything is behaving beautifully, and we go
every day to attend to things----"

"Doesn't Reda look after things properly?"

"Oh, yes, certainly," Cleo answered before Mary could do so. She saw
the professor was ignorant of the changes at the studio, and wisely
guessed he should not be taxed with too many cares, without permission
from the sanitarium nurse. Mary took Cleo's cue quickly, and, after
making a few general comments, tactfully changed the subject.