The Swing of the Pendulum by Adriana Spadoni

"I am certainly glad. " Dr. Mary, as she came padding across the big living room, saw only Jean. "I thought you were a 'promiser,' and I loathe 'promisers,' almost as much as I do people who really forget me."

"No, indeed I did not forget you. I think it was because I remembered you so well that I didn't come. I got to thinking how busy you must be and -- and -- -- "

"You must have been rather busy yourself. The name they announced wasn't Norris. Is it you?"

For the first time she perceived Pat and looked inquiringly from her to Jean.

"Yes. The Herrick is for me. I was married shortly after I interviewed you. Did you read the interview? I didn't call you anything, although I assure you it was a temptation. You have Mr. Herrick to thank for that. He pruned down my finest flights."

"Sensible man. Oh yes, I read it. I thought of memorizing it, you worded it so much better than I ever did myself. But let's go into my den. I always like to have friendly chats in little rooms. Big places make me feel official."

"She's a dear," whispered Pat, as they followed the doctor to a small room at the end of the hall.

Deep in her leather chair, the doctor lit a cigarette and beamed at the two young women before her.

"Are you a newspaper woman too, Miss Farnsworth?"

"Nothing so exciting. A school teacher, and a country one at that."

"Let me congratulate and condole, may I, both at once?"

"You've taught, too!"

"Does that give me so completely away? Yes, I've taught, but it was many years ago, in an interim between college and medical when I was trying to earn money to put myself through."

"But you haven't forgotten."

"Not a thing. It makes me uncomfortable yet to think of some of the mistakes I made, the big opportunities I let get by. I suppose I did not have the right stuff in me for a teacher. I started so full of hope and plans, although I knew it was not to be my life work, but I let my enthusiasm die down. I let all kinds of small, personal things dull the edge."

"But it's so difficult to keep the edge sharp. Sometimes I think that living close to the earth and animals makes one like them."

"I don't know but that you're right. Only that never occurred to me then. Perhaps I went at things too violently, but when I couldn't wake them up, well -- I just let them sleep."

"And they've been asleep ever since, at least mine have. I'm afraid I can never wake them up."

Pat's voice was grave with her deep interest and Jean glimpsed the scope of teaching as she had never before.

"Oh, yes, you can. Because you realize that there is something underneath; I didn't. I called it emptiness, when it was really desperate shyness and fear of new things, a kind of deep, perverted faithfulness to all they have ever known."