The Argosy, Vol. XXIV, No. 3 — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

A WEIRD INTERVAL. 525 ‘“Oh, Dr. Cadwalader !’’ A gentleman had raised the window for Miss Orton, and she had called out the young doctor’s name just as he thought it was possible he would recollect it himself. He raised his hat and was about to speak when the train moved on, and the next second was out of sight. Cadwalader stood there in the same posi- tion, looking after it. It seemed to him asif he had just been born again after death. Every fact connected with his last conscious moment as Will Cadwalader came up distinctly in his mind. And Edna ! But with the thought of her the look of happiness left his face. The image that kept coming up in his brain when he pictured his betrothed was always that of her whom he had first looked upon when returning conscious- ness came to him. He wished that he might see her now, so that he could tell her who he was, and that But no, no. He must never see her again; he was afraid he could not even bring himself to talk about her with Edna. He went back into the house and waited impatiently for Dr. Ray- mond’s return, but at noon a message came from him stating that he had been called out into the country and would not be home for dinner. Cadwalader determined not to wait for him. He felt now that every hour he remained in this house estranged him further from Edna. He wrote a_ note to the doctor, explaining how memory had returned to him and announcing that he had gone to Peekskill, but would be back in a day or two to return the clothes, and so forth. ‘Then he went off to the station and telegraphed to New York for his trunks. He thought of sending a message to Hdna, but recollecting that she could not have expected him yet, decided that he would surprise her. But when he tried to imagine what form of expression this surprise would take on her face, it was always the face of Mrs. Raymond’s cousin he saw. And during the entire ride to Peekskill this same face kept itself steadily before his mental vision, In vain he argued with himself on the absurdity of being in love with a woman whose name he did not know. By the time he reached his destination he was utterly miserable—desperate almost. Mechanically he inquired of the station master how to reach the Deering residence; then he went out and made his way into the town. He had not far to'go. He saw Mrs. Deering looking at him from an upper window as he lifted the latch and entered the gateway. He thought it was strange that she did not throw up her hands with an exclamation of surprise, and hurry down to meet him. ‘Then it came over him that of course she did not recognize him with his mustache. ‘And Edna?’’ he thought then. ‘‘ Will her love inform her who it is?’’ Again came the vision of that other face between. Must he always be tortured like this)? But now the servant had opened the door, and he asked if Miss Deering was in. No, she was not. ““Mrs. Deering, then ?’’ Cadwalader went on. He was ushered into the parlor, and sent up his name. As he took his Ccomiclooolks