The Wreck of the South Pole and Other Strange Tales — page 188: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

That Deceptive Telegram. 181 a species of chastened, holy joy, which filled the good lady’s soul with fears. He was up to something, she knew. An incident which occurred only a few days be- fore he was to leave, heightened her suspicions. Her husband came in one morning with a long face and a sol- emn tone of voice, and said: “My dear, I have just heard of a distressing affair. Mary Candee has run away, and it is feared that she has gone to marry that scapegrace John Smith, who is con- nected with a saloon in Chicago. I feel very sorry for her, and I hope that I may run across her while attending the spring convocation. If so, I may be of assistance to her or her husband.” “Alfred,” replied Mrs. Brown, with a most austere look, “if you speak to the abandoned creature you will degrade yourself, and I forbid it.” “Why, my dear,” the good rector replied, “you must be beside yourself. It is my duty as a priest of the church to help even the lowest. Of course I shall do all that I can to find the poor girl and help her in her trouble.” “Convocation, indeed,’ Mrs. Brown said to herself, when the rector had departed to his study. “A pretty convocation it will be. Why couldn’t he take me with him instead of going to a disreputable bachelor club- house? He meant to meet that girl all the time, and I haven’t a doubt but that he wrote to that old curmudgeon and asked for a room with him so that I could not go along.” On Monday of the next week the rector of St. Mark’s Cconniclooolk (©)