The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1871-03-09

"1udeed, I do, mamma; the telegram
'rrived several days before. Oh, yes!
mean the last mail for the Saturday
before that Mrs. Farrer received 4
parcel of such beautiful Calcutta work,
md she has given me some to trim my
with, and"
"Stop, stop, my dear?' interposed
Ms. Elliot, "and let me try to under
stand what you are saying. The steam
er which should have brought the last
mail has been wrecked. Why, your
aunt Bugenia had letter on Sunday
by that very mail. How could that be!"
"It couldn't be - was the decided
reply. II am sure, mamma, that I
have made no mistake; besides, the
Telegram was in the newspaper which I
read on the journey down here. Let me
fetch it i" and without waiting for as
sent, Amy ran upstairs.
There was an awkward silence after
her departure. Eugenia, white and
red by turns, and hating herself for
being so weak as to change color, sat
by the fire, holding up book t. screen
her countenance, while Marion leaned
back in her chair and covered her face
with her hand. Mrs. Beale, occupied
with writing letters at slde.table, had
not even noticed the little discussion.
"Here it is, ''amma p exclaimed
Amy, returning with sheet Of the
Times, which she spread open beneath
the lamp-light. "Reuter's Telegram
We regret to announce that news
has been received of the entire wreck
of the P. and O. Steamship Sultins, on
her passage from Calcutta to Gale, with
the mails Of the. 18th Of October. Thir-
teen lives were lost, and part Of the
msil-bags. The remainder of the pas.
eugers and crew put into Gale. The
rescued mai'-bags will be sent on by
next steamer. So you see, mamma," !"
she continued, "there is still . chance
Of Mrs. Farrer getting Fred's photo
grarb, though it is really shame t.
think of a triAe like that, 10 the fsce Of
such terrible news. I wonder when
the names of the lost will arrive p
How pity the poor people who ex-
peoted their friends by this mail How
anxious they will be till they get fur.
ther particulars J"
But Amy's remark fell for once up
on deaf ears. Mrs. Elliot vas thinking.
not of death and the natural sorrow it
occasions, but Of that worse grief which
comes from finding those whom We love
best are not so worthy as we believed
them to be; for in Mrs. Elliot's eyes
a dalsehood was dishonor, and the man
or woman who deliberately practiced
deceit, as dangerous a criminal as this
world could produce; she would rather
have seen Amy in her coffin than live
to become tented with such a vice.
And over her mind was rushing, as il
a whirlwind, the remembrance Of the
morning on which Eugenia had re-
ceived that letter-of her evasive an
swers-her unwillingness to discuss it.
contents, and her refusals to produce
the envelope. And with it she recalled
that former occasion on which Mrs
Lennox had brought such confusion in
to her sisters face by alluding to tn,
Indian correspondence, and she half
thoug ht herself that tho latter had pre-
varicated on the subject of i1quirins
for her letters at McAlbert & WILSON'S e
She could hardly bring herself to be
lieve that Eugenia had really stoopet
to tell her fa]sehood, nor what occa
sion there could be- for 1t; and yet no,
was the fact to be otherwise accouu:e,
for2 AS Marion thought Of it, SD
grew more and more perp]exed. Mean
while Eugenia, hslf:hidden by the vol
ume which she held, was wonderin,
what she could say to exculpate her
self. Tho ''tangled web" we weave o.
practicing deception was closing abou
her more inextricab'y every day; sh
va, beginning to discover, to her cos'
that it requires ten lies to make goo
one; and, to a nature so open and S
true as hers, the thought was agony
Had she followed the natural bent q
her inclination, she would have fallen a
Marion's feet, then and there, and, dia
closing her whole history, implored he
to forgive the weakness Of which sh
had been guilty. But that was i'm
possible; the secret was not her own
she must struggle onward, keeping it 4
all costs, and hoping that time woul'
clear her conduct in the eyes Of thos
who loved her. She longed that Mari
on would speak to her, we're it only t
express her surprise at the revelation
she had heard, or to ask some explains
ton of it; but Mrs Elliot said moth
ing, but sat, with her head upon be
hand, silently gazing 10 the fire; an'
Eugenia knew, from that circumstanc
alone, how strongly she suspected her
"Now, mamma" exclaimed Amy
presently, "dou't you go to sleep tn
very frst evening l come home-I'v
got go much to say to you. First, sbou
Aunt Euge7ia's letter isn't 1t vel,
funny ?-because it couldn't have com
by this mail, you see, and yet it arrive'
m the riuht davO