Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1899-06-21
Recalled to Life.

81 LAZING noon in the dog days
IS A steady. unwinking glare of
sunlight blisters the paint on the
ratings of Cavendish square. A hand.
som pulls up at DR.. Caffyn's house in
the hottest corner of the square A
tall man allghts, rings, and is forth
with admitted.
There are only three persons before
him. An elderly lady, with a small
boy. who wriggles uneasily in his chair,
and young girl, who sits alone at the
table, turning over a volume Of John
Leech's drawings. Burton seats him
self by one of the heavily curtained
windows and falls into a reyerie
The pretcrnatural silence which fol
lows does not last long. The door
opens. A servant bows in the direc-
ton of the pair, and the boy is borne
off shrinkingly. Again the door opens
the girl looks out interrogatively,
then rises and goes. Only one prisoner
left now in the condemned cell.
Burton yawns, with an air of relief.
and saunters to the table. He is bat
Ting with an uncomfortable feeling of
having been in this room, with the self
same people, at some remote stage Of
his past life. Wonders If this can pos
sibly be one of the symptoms of his
Illness?
At this moment the opening Of
door In the hall, a faint murmur, and
a light football warn the last victim
that his hour has come. He rises and
follows the servant.
"Quite so,'' remarks DR.. Caffyn, a
thin, weasel-faced man, after exam
lining his patient. "Quite SO! You
are-er-er-" vanity hunting for his
card.
Burton is my name. Middle Tenn
ple-barrister and journalist
quite so!' repeats the physician,
with the air of one arriving with some
difficulty at the truth. "Hard-worked
In your profession, Mr.-er-BurtonY
mo; not very much. have not been
able for much lately, owing to that
faintness 1 told you off. Would 1 not
be the better for a change of air to
brace me up little, DR.. Caffynf"
1.-The fact is." says the physician,
leaning back in his chair and lingering
his eye-glass; 1.-The fact is, my dear
SIR. can give you only a poor report
of your health. Nothing that I-or any
,ne else-can give you will do you much
good"
PLAINLY speaking. DR.. Caffyn," he
says, rousing himself at last, "how
long have I to HveY
Not more than a few months,
fear" returns the other, feelingly.
"Five or six at most. But you may
find some temporary relief from this"
handing the prescription, and rising.
"Come and see me, Mr.. Burton, when
you like. Avoid worry, excitement,
late hours, and-er-good morning."
He passes through the still hall into
the blazing sunlight once more-the
life-giving sunshine which will never
again minister health and strength to
him.
A letter awaits him at his chambers.
Mechanically he opens 1t. What does
1t matter? What does anything matter
now?
1t Is from Kite & Prabblc, the pub
fishers, to the effect that the first edi-
ton Of Mr.. Burton's novel, "Thothmes,"
having been exhausted in three weeks,
they purposed going to press with Il
second edition, in view of the unpre-
cedented demand. Meanwhile they in
closed a check for $500, in terms of
contract, and remained his obedient-
ly-
"Too later he exclaims, bitterly.
TOO later
$50 you really like the book?"
Yes. very much" she replies. 81
have never read anything which
touched me so deeply"
They were walking in a Devonshire
lane, the niece of the rector of Daliing-
ton and Burton. The people at the rec
tory were old friends of his family, and
1t was there that he had met Emile
Conyers.
The book they had just been discus
sing was "Thothmes," his own aron-
ymous novel. but he had not told her
he was the author. Not worth while
low, he thought to himself.
Tell me something you like in
'Thothmes,' Miss Conyers. IL read it
lately"
20, well, there is that fine passage
about recogniton-no, recollection,
rather. l liked that-about remember
ing what is happening now as having
occurred at some far back date of ones
life. By the by"-this with a vivid
blush-"that reminds me! Do you
know, Mr.. Burton, am quite sure that
1 have seen You somewhere before We
met here? I can't remember where,
though have tried-somewhere, not
long ago."
Il am sure 1 can't say" he says,
quietly, looking down into her frank,
brown eyes. Il don't think we have
met before. and yet-ah. well! perhaps
It Is only the same curious feeling you
we're just speaking Of, and to which l
sllude-I-l mean the author OF
'Thothmes' aliudes-in your favorite
passage. Do you know that the physi-
ologists tell US now that all that sort
Of thing arises from a mere twisting of
our nerve dAe1F
OF couf.a. before thsdr styou ended
be had confessed b 6hs salAsBhip od
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