Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1881-05-28
"I almost wish I had told Lewis"

she said to herself, absently.
Told him of what, my dearp"
"Of what happened to me with Win
terfeld."
Mrs. Eyrcourt's faded eyes opened
wide in astonishment.
"Dou you really mean it ?" she asked
81 do, indeed
care you actually simple enough,
Stella, to think that man of Romayne's
temper would have made you his wifi
if you had told him of the Brussels
marriage?"
"Why pot?"
"Why not Would Romayne would
any man-believe that you really did
part from Winterfield at the church.
door? Considering that you are mar
ried woman, your innocence, my sweet
child, is perfect phenomeuoni It's
well there were wiser people than you
to keep your secret"
"Don't speak too positively, mamma
Lewis may find it out yet"
"Isthat one of your presentiments ?"
eyes"
GLOW is he to find it out, if you
please!"
81 am afraid, through Father Ben
well. Yes, yes 1 know-you don't
fer him as do. He has some abom-
Unable object in view, aud his eyes tell
me that | am concerned in it,
Mrs. Eyrecourt burst out laughing.
"What is there to langh at Stella
asked.
81 declare, my dear, there is somJ-
thing absolutely provoking in your
utter want of knowledge of the world
When you are puzzled to account fol-
anything remarkable in a clergyman's
conduct Il don't care, my poor child, 10
what denomination he belongs), you
can't be wrong in attributing his mo-
tive to--money. If Romayne had
turned Baptist or Methodist, the rever
end gentleman in charge of his spiritual
welfare would not have forgotten you
have forgotten, You little goose-that his
convert was q rich man. His mind
would have dwelt on the chapel, or the
mission, CT the infant school in want of
funds, and-with no more abominable
object in view than have at this mo.
ment in poking the fire-he would have
ended in producing his modest sub
scription-list, and would have betrayed
himself Gust as our odiou1 Benwell will
betray himself) by the two amiable little
words, please contribute. Is there any
other presentiment, my dear, on which
you would like to have your mothers
candid opinion ?"
Stella resignedly took up the book
again.
81 dare say you are right" she said.
"Let us read our novel"
Before she had reached the end of the
first page her mind was far away again
from the unfortunate story. She was
thinking of that "other preseutiment,"
which had formed tho subject OF her
mothers last satirical inquiry. The
vague fear that had shaken her when
she had accidentally touched the French
boy on her visit to Camps Hill till from
time to time troubled her memory.
Even the event of his death had failed
to dissipate the delusion which associat.
ed him with some underlined evil iutu-
ence that might yet assert itself. A su-
perstitious forewarning of this sort was
weakness new to her in her experience
of herself. She was heartily ashamed
of it, and yet, it kept its hold. Once
more the book dropped on her lap. She
laid it aside and walked wearily to the
window to look at the weather.
Almost at the same moment Mrs.
Eyrecourt's maid disturbed her mistress
over the second volume of the novel,
by entering tho room with letter.
For me?" Stella asked, looking
round from tho window.
"No, ma'am, for Mrs. Eyrecourt."
The letter had been brought to the
house by one of Lady Loring's servants.
In delivering he had apparently given
private instructions to the maid. She
laid her finger significantly on her lips,
when she gave the letter to her mistress.
In these terms Lady Loriug wrote
eff Stella happens to be with you
when you receive my note don't say
anything which will let her know that l
am your correspondent. She has al
ways, poor dear, had an inveterate dis.
trust of Father Benwell and, between
ourselves, am not sure that she is
quite so foolish as | once thought. The
Father has unexpectedly left us with a
well-framed excuse which satisfies Lord
Loring. 1t fails to satisfy me. Not
from any wonderful exercise of penetra-
tion ON my part. but in consequence of
something I've just heard in course of
conversation with Catholic friend.
Father Benwell, my dear, turns out to
be n Jesuit and, what is moro, person
of such high authority in the Order that
his concealment of his rank while he