The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1881-06-17

"Beforo break tho SEAL" he said
"let me do you Justice. Sit dow
again Father Benwell, and forgive mi
IL my sen'e of duty has hurried me int,
hurting your feelings. No man ough
to know better than | do how Offer
people misjudge and wrong eacl
other"
They shook hands cordially. N,
moral relief is more eagerly songh
than relief from the pressure of a seri
GUS explanation. By common consen
they now spoke as lightly as if nothin,
had happened. Father Benwell set tn,
example.
"You actually believe in a priest =
he said gaily. tive shall make q goos
Catholic of you vet"
Don't be too sure of that" Winter
field replied. 81 respect the men who
have given to humanity the inestimabl,
blessing of quinine-to say nothing o
preserving learning and civilization
but respect still more my own liberty
as free Christian"
They both laughed. Father Benwel
went back to his newspaper. Winter
field broke the seal of the envelope and
took out the Enclosures. s-
The confession was tho first of the
papers at which he happened to look
AT the opening lines lie turned pale
He read more and his eyes filed will
tears. In. low, broken tones, he said tc
the priest.
"You have innocently brought me
distressing news. entreat your par.
don If ask to be left alone" \
Father Benwell said few chosen
words of sympathy, and Immediately
withdrew. The dog licked his masters
hand, hanging listlessly over the arm ol
the chair.
Later in the evening note from
Winterfeld was left by the messenger
at the priests lodgings. The writer
announced with renewed expression OF
regret that he would be again absent
from London on the next day, but he
hoped TO return to the hotel and receive
his guest on The evening of the day af.
ter.
Father Benwell rightly conjectured
that Winterlield's destination was the
town in which his wife died.
His object in taking the journey was
not, as the priest supposed. to address
inquiries to the rector and the landlady,
who had been present ut the fatal illness
and the death, but to Justify his wife's
last expression of belief in the mercy
and compassion of the man whom she
had injured. On that ''nameless
grave" so sadly and so Ihumbly refer
red to in the confession, he had resolv-
ed to place simple stone cross, giving
to her memory the name which she had
shrunk from profaning In her lifetime.
When he had written tho brief inscrip-
ton which recorded the death of
Emma, wife of Bernard Winterfield," )"
and when he had knelt for while by
the low turf mound, his errand had
come to an end. He thanked the good
rector; he left gifts with the landlady
and the children, by which he was CRATE
fully remembered for many year af-
terward, and then went back to Lon
don.
Other men might have made their
sad little pilgrimage alone. Winter
field took hiss dog with him. 81 must
have something to love-" he said TO the
rector, sat such n time as this"
CHAPTER IV.-FATHER BENwELL's COR
REsPONDENCE.
To the Secretary, S. J., Rome.
"When | wrote last scarcely thought
l should tronble you again so soon.
The necessity has, however, arisen.
must ask for instructions from our
most reverend general on the subject of
Arthur PenrOse.
81 believe that | informed you that l
decided TO defer my proposed visit to
Ten Acres Lodge for two or three days,
in order that " interfeld Gfhe intended
to do SOY might have time TO communi.
cate with Mrs. Romayne after his return
from the country. Naturally enough,
perhaps, considering the delicacy of the
subject, he has not taken me into his
confidence. can only guess that he
has maintained the same reserve with
Mrs. Romayne.
"My visit to the Lodge was duly paid
this afternoon.
81 asked first, of course, for the lady
of the house, and hearing she was in
the grounds, joined her there. She
looked ill and anxious, and she receiv-
ed me with rigid politeness. Fortunate
ly, Mrs. Eyrecourt (now convalescent)
was staying at Ten Acres and was then
taking the air in her chair on wheels.
The good lady's nimble and discursive
tongue offered me an opportunity of
referring, in the most innocent manner
possible, to Winterfield's favorable
opinion of Romayne's pictures. need
scarcely say that looked at Romayne's
wife when l mentioned the name. She
turned pale, probably fearing that had
some knowledge of her letter warning
Winterfeld not to trust me. If she had
already been informed that he was not
TO be blamed, but TO be pitied in the
matter of marriage at Brussels, she
would have turned red. Snch at least
Is my experience, drawn from recollec-
tions of other days.
"The ladies having served my pur-
pose, / ventured into the house to pay
my respects to Romayne.
"He was in the study, and his excel
lent friend and secretary was with him.
After the first greetings, Penrose left
as. His manner told me plainly that
here was something wrong. l asked
no questions waiting on the chance
that Romayne might enlighten me.
Il hope you are in better spirits now
that you have your old companion with
you.' l said.
"' am very glad to have Penrose
with me- he answered. And then he
and looked out of the window
at the two ladies in the grounds.
"It occurred TO me that Mrs. Eyre
conrt might be occupying the customary
false position of mother-in-law. /
was mistaken. lie was not thinking of
his wife.
az suppose you know that Penrose
has an idea of converting me? he said,
suddenly.
al was perfectly candid with him. l
said / knew of it, and approved of 1t.
"'May Ihope that Arthur has sue