The Argosy, Vol. XXIV, No. 3 — page 140: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

524 | A WEIRD INTERVAL. market he was restless until she came back, and when one morning he entered the breakfast room and found her place vacant he inquired of the doctor with great concern if ‘his cousin was ill. ‘No, she has gone home up the river,’’ was the reply. ‘" And isn’t she coming back ?’’ went on Cadwalader anxiously. Yes, but not just now. My wife returns tonight,’’ and the doctor’s face beamed. Cadwalader said but little during the remainder of the meal. He was thinking of how much he would miss “ Cousin. ”’ It was a charming day—the first really warm one of the opening spring. When Dr. Raymond started off to make his morning calls, Cadwalader went out into the garden and strolled reflectively up and down the garden paths. His eyes had a serious look in them, and the lines across his forehead showed dissatisfaction with something or somebody. ‘“ What a life this is to lead!’ he was saying to himself. ‘‘ Who am I, and where do I belong? Perhaps I have a wife and children somewhere é As this thought occurred to him he was conscious of a sharp twinge. He recollected her who had ministered to him so sweetly during the past week. Could he feel drawn so closely to another as he was now to her? But he might not be married. The chances were all against it, it seemed to him. He was now more eager than ever to regain full control of his mind. The very fact that he was beginning to feel the strangeness, the ignominy of his position so keenly gave him hope. : A robin, alighting on a branch just over his head, began to sing raptur- ously. Cadwalader halted and attempted to recall where he had heard just such bird song before. But his memory would carry him no further back than the canary at the Raymonds’, whose notes were the first sounds that seemed ever to have fallen on his ear, ‘‘ It’s no use,’’ he muttered wearily, as he moved on again, and his limbs, which had appeared to be stronger when he first came out, now gave signs of weakness. There was a bench at the lower end of the garden. He tottered to this and flung himself upon it. Just then a whistle sounded close at hand. The railroad, as has been said, ran past the foot of the Raymond garden. A train from New York had just come in. ‘There was some delay on the track ahead. It slowed up and came to a standstill with one of the parlor cars just the other side of the hedge. Cadwalader raised his head and looked, languidly at first, at the passengers gazing from the windows. All at once the languor left him; a strange, in- explicable expression flashed into his face. He rose to his feet and began to move toward the hedge, his eyes fixed on a face at one of the car windows. Now she saw and recognized him. It was Miss Orton. She was bowing and smiling, trying to raise the heavy sash. With a rush everything came back to Cadwalader. As if growing out of her face, the heavy, saltish air of the sea seemed to be in his nostrils, the trembling of the mighty ship under his feet. He remembered all now. He had come back to America from Paris, his nanie was =} OMichbooksnco