Ideal or not, Diana flourished in this environment and grew up, not only strong and healthy, but with a mind agile and uninhibited, a temperament sunny and free from boredom, a memory packed with a wide variety of information and skills arranged in reasonably efficient integration. The possible flaw in her character, if flaw it were , lay in her quick emotional sympathy, the ease with which she felt the pain and sorrows of others. It prevented her from following in her mother's career as a surgeon, as she could not manage the detached viewpoint necessary to protect the surgeon from the emotional impact of the suffering she treated. This joint in her armor led her too easily into emotional relationships, especially with the opposite sex. In her late teens she suffered a severe hurt through a love affair with a young poet, who was ill with a cycloid neurosis probably psychotic in character. He became obsessed with her dancing and took his own life while watching the climax of one of her emotional numbers. It is easy of course to say that he should not have been at large, but the reader knows as well as the writer that our preventive diagnoses are not infallible and that we cannot afford to take the risk of violating the customs on which our liberty is based.
In any case the results were very nearly disastrous to Diana. The physical effects were naturally pronounced in a character such as hers, hysterical gastritis, disordered metabolism of course; but the mental disturbance was intense. An immediate introversion, excessive timidity, and a terror of dancing were the gross symptoms. Her father dropped what he was doing and hurried to her, where he argued with the healers over her treatment, created a bedlam, and finally snatched her away to subject her to an uproarious picaresque six months that left her no time to think. Toward the end of the time, an unimaginative handsome young animal coaxed her back into a normal sex life. She quickly tired of him, and he of her, and she awoke one morning to find herself completely cured, and anxious, not only to dance, but to enjoy the world and the people in it.
Her illness may not have improved her dancing, but it widened her horizon. Although still strongly interested in dance, and firmly believing it to be the most living and personal of all the arts, she now found herself not only cured, but grown up, with an alert interest in all life, all knowledge, the whole cultural pattern. But her reputation as a dancer grew even as it became to her more and more a means whereby she had the opportunity to enjoy more fully the myriad other aspects of living.
The Author]
IV
Diana awoke the next morning with a feeling that it was going to be a nice day. She stretched and yawned contentedly. As she sat up her eyes fell on Perry, tousle-headed and still sleeping. She sat still and then a smile stole over her face. Of course, that was it. She was no longer obsessed by the doubts and forebodings of the previous night. It seemed right and proper and very much fun to be helping a lost boy to find himself. Humming quietly she entered her refreshing room and prepared for the day. Perhaps she took a little longer with her hair-do than usual. In any case it was several minutes and a few more before she emerged pink and glowing into the living room. She glanced at Perry, and assured herself that he still slept, then quietly commenced preparations for breakfast. She was interrupted shortly by a voice behind her.
"Good morning."
"Oh, you startled me. Good morning, Perry. Did you have a good night's sleep?"
"Yes, but say—you look gorgeous!"
Diana blushed and dropped her eyes. "Don't try to flatter me."
"But you do."
"Is it the custom of your time to make such direct personal compliments?"
"Why, yes. Isn't it nowadays?"
"Well—, yes, if you wish and it's deserved."
"I think you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"But—Oh, bother. Hurry up and refresh yourself. Breakfast will be ready before you are."
Perry laughed, and ducked into the guest's refreshment chamber. Diana went determinedly ahead with her work. She mistakenly put a quantity of flour instead of tea in the steeper, turned boiling water over it, then stamped her foot and said 'bother' again, before washing out the pasty mess. Perry stuck his head into the room.
"Dian'!"
"Yes, Perry?"
"Is there some way I can shave around here? My face is a sight."
"There is a capillotomer in my 'fresher. You can plug it in yours."
"What's a catillopomer?"
"Not a catillopomer, a capillotomer, a hair cutter."
"Will it shave?"
"Smooth as a baby. Here, I'll get it for you." She fetched it and showed him how to use it.
"Why, it's the old dryshaver, streamlined and with a college education."
"It's old fashioned all right, but I don't care much for depilatories. Quit playing with it and shave. I'm about to serve."
"In a jiffy."
"All right, as long a jiffy isn't over five minutes."
Breakfast was a dream of Hedonism. Clear winter sunshine crowned the snow on the far mountains. A light breeze made lacy patterns of the falls. Inside the glass screen two hungry healthy young people looked at each other over cups of steaming black tea and found the other in every way pleasant to look upon. In the background an orchestra in Honolulu played softly and substituted for conversation. Presently the toast was gone and with it the poached eggs and fruit cup.
Diana got up and put out her cigarette. "Your education begins today, my lad. Are you ready?"
"I've polished an apple for teacher."
"That sounds nice. Now for works. Let's pick out a few books. Here—yes, and this will do. And I mustn't forget the Customs. I wonder where I put it. Oh, here it is. And you might be interested in this—it's mostly engineering. Now let's see if the records have arrived." She stepped over and opened the receptacle. "Yes. Let's see what Santa Claus brought: 'Historical Panorama of the United States, sections 11-20, XXth Century, sections 21-28, XXIst Century', plus supplements to date and a continuous narrative summary. Integrated world history in four sections. You won't need the first two sections but you might run them anyway. 'Illustrative Customs for Children, infancy to puberty', in six sections. Same for adolescents, and the integrating series for full citizenship. 'Taboo: a History of Social Conventions'. That will keep you busy for quite a while and you can pick out anything you are interested in from the general catalog. There is a list of special catalogs in the front of the big catalog. If you want to go after any particular subject, you can get its catalog. By the way did I show you how to stop the reproducer and make it repeat a portion?"
"No, I don't think you did."
"I'll show you. It's useful in study, especially for a slow poke like me. You'll find that this particular historical series makes several references to this book of United States history. You can stop the machine if you like and read the reference and then pick up where you left off. I'm glad they sent this series. They were directed by the same master who wrote the book."
"Where had I better start?"
"I would forget the books for a while and charge right through the historical recordings. Then I would view all the customs records. Then tomorrow you can start to run them piecemeal with the books, if you like. But be sure to read the Code of Customs all the way through. Lots of the customs aren't illustrated in these records."
"OK, where's that first record? See if I put it on properly. All right—let 'er roll." The cool calm voice of the announcer stated the title of the record and the period covered, then 'Washington, 1900'. Perry, staring into the stereoscopic picture, found himself floating over Pennsylvania Avenue facing west. It was winter and cold and grey. He moved along over a fairly dense traffic of carriages and hansoms, clop-clopping over muddy pavement and splashing through slush in car tracks. A street car clanged its bell and started. He floated over the tops of the vehicles and found himself approaching the White House. He entered the front door, proceeded to the West Wing and found President McKinley at his desk. Seated at ease near the President, but with his great frame exuding energy even in repose was the one and only Teddy, Teddy Roosevelt, the people's darling. "I tell you, Mr. President, the only way to handle it is to speak softly but to carry a big stick." The scene faded and others appeared with the voice of the commentator frequently in the background. Sometimes the voice carried the story and was merely illustrated by the living shadows. Again the picture presented the story and dialogue provided sufficient explanation, but constantly the scene shifted. At Kitty Hawk the Wright brothers lifted their 'crazy contraption' off the ground. The Panama Canal was dug and yellow fever conquered. 'Too proud to fight.' The Lusitania. War in the air. High Cost of Living. Automobiles poured over the continent. Chain stores melted into Tea Pot Dome and a market crash. 'My friends—' came out of a radio by a fireside and Boulder Dam climbed high. Then Perry leaned forward in tense anticipation as 1939 passed by. He kept very quiet for the better part of two hours except at first for a few ejaculations of surprise. After that, surprise left him. He stopped once to ask Diana for some cigarettes and again to get a drink of water. This time he discovered that Diana had gone out. A long time later he felt a touch on his shoulder.