Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 19, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 January 1898 — SUSPENDED ANIMATION. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

SUSPENDED ANIMATION.

HEY had been the fondest of lovers once—before her sudden fancy for a “life work” and a “career” had p o s f p o n ed the wedding day, lull eti n itely and the aroma of the experience still lingered, with a vague, illusory sweetuess in his memory. He found himself vividly recalling the circumstances and

results of their last meeting, as he acknowledged 1 his second introduction to her. She had exhausted ids patience by persistently refusing to even so much as consider the possibility of deserting her classes at the end of the term and becoming his wife immediately, and he had bidden her—with mistaken stem ness, as he afterward realized —choose between'hcr studies and himself. She had complied instantly, being a girl of much spirit and independence when these qualities \£vre once aroused in her gentle soul—and the Choice had not fallen upon him. ; They had parted then, "with ostentatious and studied coolness so far as outward appearances went, blit with surreptitious and intense bitterness upon his part, and keen, if suppressed, regret upon hers. But they had “gone their several ways without more ado. She had become, after a due- period of study, a successful physician and surgeon, of whom great things were predicted, and lie had amassed more money than he had ever dreamed of acquiring in those days; but the nervous frown which habitually disfigured his forehead hinted at many an hour of J loneliness and remorse, and the wistful look which softened the professional sternness of her line eyes in moments of relaxation was eloquent of a similar story. And they had never met again until to-night. “You will take in Miss Winston, please, ’’ their hostess remarked, a trifle hurriedly, as the young man entered the drawing room just in time to hear the announcement that dinner was served. “Miss Winston, Mr. Harper—or stay,” with a breathless recollection of some vague story connecting the two names, “perhaps you already know each other.” • “Yes, we have met before,” was his bold reply, given with embarrassed hesitation as Mrs. Dudley looked questlouiugly from one to the other. The woman's quicker wits prompted a less halting response. “Yes, indeed; we were quite intimate once,” she said, sweetening the com- „ monplace words with the brilliant impersonal smile she had adopted as part of her professional outfit, and which was so widely and intrinsically different from the frank and unstudied smile of the girl he remembered. She laid her fingers lightly on his arm as their hostess fluttered away, and they,walked out to the dining room together in due course and order; but neither spoke again until the soup had been disposed of and the llsh was well under way. Then—" You are greatly changed.” lie blurted out, feeding that courtesy imperatively demanded an utterance of

some kind, and hardly knowing what <o any. Sin* favored hint with u new ■mile again. “Yes, I have changed much, I suppose,” she returued, tingering her fork with Just a touch of nervousness. ‘ I have Iwen working hard for some years, you know, and steady, earnest work almost transforms one, I think, Ho•ides, It Is over seven years since we last met, Is It not? I was very young then.” '* "You were just 20,” trembled upon his lips, but he Suppressed It. He was liy no means ccrtalu as to the precise amount of personal conversation she would allow. Hut presently, as he made ao audible reply, she spoke again. “In fact"—still with that nervous, action of the fork and lingers*-'"I have changed so much since that time that 1 am hardly the same person at all. The

! girl you knew,” with sudden decision, . “died a long time ago.” 1 “She was a very dear little girl,” lie exclaimed tenderly, without stopping to think. But, somewhat to his surprise, she neither reproved him nor looked indignant. Instead, he could have swqrn that her voice trembled a little as she uttered her calm and judicious reply. ‘‘Yes,” she responded with unexpected gentleness and acquiescence, “I. think she was. She has been dead so long, you see, I can speak of her just as though she had never belonged to me at all, and I really <lo think she was a nice little tiling. So faithful to the ridiculous little ideals that seemed of such vital importanceto her. lam surprised now, when I think of her occasionally, te vemembef how. really good she was) or tried to he, and’really, I am fond of her memory, too. Would you believe,” turning upon him impulsively, with a smile and glance so precisely like those of the girl under discussion that he started involuntarily, “that I, practicing physician and surgeon (lie fancied that slie laid an unnecessary if slight emphasis upon the last four words), within two milestones of my thirtieth birthday, would be foolish enough to do as I did yesterday? I came accidentally upon the satin slippers I wore at—at that ball, you know, just before— well, -a long time ago- “ Just seven years,” lie interrupted, softly; but she did not recognize the interruption,' and only went on with heightened color: ■ . *

“And put them on to see how my feet would look in them now. Why, I haven't wont satin slippers or danced for an age. And I fancy I almost dropped a tear over flip pretty, foolish things. What do you think of that, and T a practicing physician for nearly four years?” ’ “You are a physician, then? You took your degree?” he queried gently, refusing to notice either the palpable and defiant challenge of her manner or the interrogation with which she ended her unstudied confession, and quite unmindful of the fact that he was perfectly aware of her professional status and • could even have named the date and place of her graduation, “Well, well! I can hardly grasp it. It seems so astonishing somehow, kcannot fancy the dear little girl we were talking about taking up a profession of that kind. She was such a dear, timid little thing. Not so brilliant as you, of course, but so tender and loving. She could never have borne to inflict pain—physical pain at least—upon others, even if it had been for* their ultimate good. She ”

"I took up the work because it was the hardest for me of anything I could imagine, and I fancied it noble —then— to compel myself to do the tldngssyou shrank from, whether other people suffered with you or not,” she broke in Impulsively, with a smile of mingled pity and regret for (lie girl who had passed through this state of mind. “It hurts me' to conduct or witness an operation even now,” she added. “She was so tender-hearted and affectionate,” he went on quietly, tacitly declining to recognize or accept any ex% planation which she might offer, “and she would have made—you don't mind my speaking familiarly of her now that she is dead? No? Then I will go on. She would have made such a lovable wife for some lucky fellow if she had only lived. The man whom she married could not have helped being happy, and a fairly good fellow, even if he had tried. Her love,” lowering his head ami voice reverently as he uttered the word, “would have constrained Him to right ways even against his will her love and her beauty. Those starry, earnest eyes of hers seemed to look one’s soul through and through and find out only the goodness in it after all. She was too pure and innocent to see anything hut good, dear little saint. It is not often, that one sees or knows such a perfect woman as she would have made. I have never met with such another, ’ lie finished.

The girl—she was nothing hut a girl still, in spile of her 27 years and her physician's diploma looked down at her hands in silence as the j'oast was served, and ills glance followed hers. They weft* lieautlftil hands, smooth, white and well ahnped, but the girl of whom they had been speaking possessed bauds like those of a little child, and he missed the rosy dimples which used to crown the juncture of each •slender linger with the dainty palm. Perhaps the woman beside him divined and resented It. At all events she withdrew tin* altered hands into her lap and faced him with till the tender softness of the last few moments banished, and with the-newer air showing forth again, * "She must have been delightful indeed. 1 am glad to have had the privilege of knowing her," she exclaimed sarcastically, "even If. at the time of ourpi ipiaintauee, I did net realise one* tent It of the loveliness and saintliness which site possessed. Hut unfortunately," her v«dee growing harder and colder as she went on, ami the professional smile appearing brilliantly again, "like all the other pa rugous at ml saints, /die 'j* dead.. Ami hi her place,” site continued with a delimit air, "you behold l>r. Helen Winston." He 1 towed ‘ceremoniously, ami ns though to a new acquaintance; sire colored indignantly. "Not that 1 allow my professional title,to lie usihl upon social occasions," site liiisti nod to add. Sin* was talking rapidly to cover the emotion which she could not entirely repress: "It is seldom. Indeed, that 1 am obliged to consider that side of the question tit all. I go Into society very little. I am here to-night ticca use Mrs. Dudley Is such an* old and valued friend that she claims tln* right of refusing to take 'no* for an answer to her kindly pressed invitations ouec in a while. It Is only

upon rare occasions that I drop my workaday name and attire for a few .hours, and become somewhat of a butterfly again. For the girl, you know, who loved social festivities so dearly” —dropping a little of her defiant manner and ceasing to talk against time as her cheeks grew colder —“is dead.” He did not reply, and there was silence between them for some time. The dessert had been nearly disposed of before he. broke it. “Do -you believe in the resurrection of the dead?” he then asked, with a suddenness purposely startling; and the girl supposed to be so long burled rose up unmistakably in her eyes as they turned swiftly and full of unshed tears upon him. “What?” slie grasped, in breathless astonishment. “What <}o you mean?’.’ Then she flushed with anger. “Not in this Life,” slie cried, with sharp’emphasis; but he saw, or fancied lie saw, the trace of a. tear on the bright cheek nearest to him, and was in no wise daunted JUy her “wrathful and chilling manner. “Have you ever,” he persisted, Avatehing her with keen scrutiny as he spoke, “iu the course of your professional and scientific observations, come across such a thing as a case of suspended animation or supposed death?” And this time he avSs certain that the vivid blush which reminded him so' irresistibly of the girl Avliom they had been discussing was accompanied by a

tear. He saw it fall from her cheek to the napkin in her lap; and his heart leaped for joy. But her reply was long in coming, and the rising signal of the hostess, given just as she struggled for words in which to frame it; saved her from the necessity of making it at all. He held the door open for her to pass through in silence, noticing, as he did so, the long richly colored velvet robe, so exceedingly unlike the fluffy whiteness of that other girl’s holiday attire — and in another moment repeating his unanswered question to himself, as he made his way back to the table. Possibly, however, he propounded it again later in the evening with better suecess. Anyhow, early the next morning, the chum who shared his confidence and his apartments found him dreaming over a cigar with a smile so blissfully happy that he yielded, for once, to a most unmasculfne curiosity. “So you took Dr. Winston out to dinner?” he remarked. “And what, I wonder, did you find to talk about?” The otlrer smiled again; his voice, too, was strangely tender and youthfid as he made reply. “She told me how completely dead lier old self—the self that I used to know—was,” he answered, “and l—agreed with her.” The listener gave an exclamation of impatience. “Well!” he ejaculated, “I must say that you chose an exhilarating subject for conversation, aft%r all those years. And I must say, too, that for a man who used to be too precious fond of that old self of hers you afe looking strangely joyous after the funeral.” “Don’t fret, old boy,” said Harper, softly. “Strange things happen, you know. There have been well authenticated cases of suspended animation that merely simulatts] death. Dr. Winston tells me that sin* has never met with such a case in all her practice; hut it may be, my boy"- accepting the other’s proffered hand anil shaking it heartily—“it may be that I have."—Utica Globe.

“YES, WE HAVE MET BEFORE."

FOUND HIM DREAMING OVER A CIGAR.