The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1868-12-03


In neighboring town at distance of
two hours ride. Why did be not come
Why had he suffered her to pass that
terrible trial without bis arm, his breast,
to lean upon? Evidently he was i'll,
or from home, or she had offended him
and che began to pass her conduct in
review.
THE CORRESPONDENCE.
She was not long left IN doubt. A
letter in the well known characters soon
filed her eyes with sad happy tears, but
rcadiog it left her deadly cold aud pale.
Reading it again, she burst into pas
sion Of bitter tears, mentally exclaiming
GLOW could I be SO thoughtless as to
wound him sov'
Long she sat, and read and re-read
and pondered the contents, her brain
reeling, doubtful OF everything and es-
pecially Of what she ought to do. At
length she carried the letter to her
mother, snd placipg it in her hand
knelt and buried her pale, tear-stained
face il the folds of that wise counsel
lors dress, saying:
"Oh, mother! I have wounded and
offended Edward so what shall I do ?"
The letter which 30 wrung her tried
heart With new anguish, was on this
wise
''M1ss hERLYx II suppose the time
When 1 mig ht have called you Dear Mar
garet,' is now past. Since you have not
thought proper 70 take me into your con-
fdence, in your family matters, / presume
it is . notification that l may heneeforth
look upon myself IS . stranger in that fam
lily, whose wishes you have ever regarded
Is Of more importance than mine. If you
had cared for me Is you have professed,
and as l had a right to expect, you would
have notified me. by telegraph. Of the ca
lamity which has happened to your family,
and not have left me to learn the facts from
strangers. In your family grief Of course
NY feelings were the last thing to be con-
sidered. can now understand the sor, ow
you have more than once expressed At the
prospect Of leaving 'home,' IS yen always
call it, when you should become my wife.
had nothing to offer which could compen-
safe for the loss Of that home Ny love
could not replace that Of your father and
mother; and the tears you shed when their
reluctant consent vas given to our mar
riage were lot without their meaning. II
you had loved me as you should you never
could have wept At the prospect Of being
my wife. should not have taken you SO
far from home that you could not have vis-
tied it when you wished; and if you had
not wished to see me, or your mother had
ohjested to my presence, at the late fune-
ral. you might have vrittan stating the
fssts. Ny ood! the shock 1 received
when told on the street of the death Of my
intended father-in law! Mr.. Smith said
to me: Strange that you have not heard
direct. 1tmust be false report So
others have motto ed the neglect and the
whole affair makes my position very un-
pleasant. Ihave waited to hear from you
until.f find it useless; and beg leave to
assure you that you need fear no farther
intrusion from
s'EDwARD STRorTxDERl'
Mrs. Merlyn read and re-read the
strange epistle; with feelings far different
from those,which crushed her daughter.
In the whirl of retrospection and plans
for the future, which a great sorrow,
like a drowning agony, crowds upon
active minds, Mrs. Merlyn had felt =
CLEAN Of comfort in the thought that
her eldest daughter. by the marriage of
her choice would be lifted above the
poverty into which she herself and
other children must sink, but she was
not for = moment blind to the proof
this letter gave that his sel6shness vas
more intense and narrow than she had
ever dreamed and now came a sense
of relief, Of joy, that even by this fiery
ordeal her darling child would be saved
from life of wretebedness, compared
to which any privation, any sorrow;
shared by loving sympathy. must be
blessed exceedingly. She raised the
bowed head and laying it on her bosom
soothed and caressed the sufferer as in
intancyu: when Margaret passionately
exclaimed: GLOW could L be 20
thoughtless, 50 selfish, mother, as to
wound him so :" she replied quietly:
"You did not think, darling, that he
was At home. You remember it was
spoken of, aud you supposed he was in
New York, aud had no means Of know
ing where = dispatch would reach him."
=: HOh, yes but should have written.
He il 50 sensitive. I might have
known he would expect it,
,".And are his feelings alone I, be
thought off"
"But, dear mother, you know the
time was to be 50 soon; and any want
Of confidence on my part would bs SO
hard to bear. l must write ut once
and explain. Oh, if l only could do
right aud not vex him Is do:''
Had you not better wait until he
comes, darliug?"
"But feeling thus he would never
come. He is 80 proud and so justly
angry with me. Oh, mother, it is 80
hard Affections come not siogly to ur,"
and she burst into . fit of weeping.
Gently the sorrowing mother soothed
and sought to comfort her still more
borrowing child. She tried to dissuads
her from writing, but Margaret had no
room in her loving heart for pride OF
resentment ssainst the cbjest which
flied it 30 completely. She had wound
ed Edward, and must seek BY every
means to comfort him. He found fault
in her, and of course she must be
wrong, for the thought Of his being un-
lust never once entered her loyal heart.
All others ight fail, but he could not
be other than faithful. The belief in
bis love and truth appeared an essen
t;al port Of her life =; love and trust the
vital breath Of her soul. So in deep
eontzition and with . heart rasked With
cruel anguish, she wrote
"D1Al EDwARD.-I Am 30 sorry Ishould
have given yen pain; but I did not know
whore . dispatch would find you; then
thought you would hear, and come to US.
oh you cannot know the dreadful, dreadfal
shockfthis has been to us Or you. would not
wonder should forget everything. am 20
h.-;l1nroA II all M atrAnRe. Mother IN