The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1842-10-01


ond my human nature, and in the next
moment knew that hope and happiness
had passed forever from my heart. My
doom was sealed-my race was run--my
light was extingushed.
But what was the course which honor,
and virtue, and friendship babe me pur-
sue2 In the solitude of tina. whole night,
meditated on the subject, and before the
eye of the rising sun, took on my trem-
bling knees, an oath which, by Gods
grace, | was enabled to keep sacred |
swore TO bury forever in my bosom the
feelings which the last evening had ava
kened, and still to be the true and faithful
friend of him who had trusted every thing
to my honor. knew and felt, when |
took this resolution, that it, yet still re-
solved. 1t was, indeed, difficult and
dangerous part to act, but if my life had
been required Of me for its pe'iorma nee,
would have freely given it,
should in vain attempt to describe the
feelings which seemed to be consuming
me during the remainder of the wear,
which passed with Agnes. BY efforts
which now appear 10 me supernatural, |
became at once most accomplished actor
i might almost say, hypocrite. was
gay and cheerful, as usual: went through
the same round Of occupations; walked;
read; sketched, ! sang with Agnes as
gally as before; ard no one, not ever her,
Tor moment suspected the holowness OF
all this. 1t has always been an inexpli-
cable mystery to me that my health did
not desert me during this fierce conflict,
but no symptom of the kind appeared
had hoped that the semblance of indif.
ference might in time produce something
of reality, but was disappointed. My
passion Tor Agnes still grew; but had
SO completely schooled myself into all
outward suppression oft, that opportuni-
lies which to others would have seemed
irresistible, hardly offered temptation to
me. The touch Of her white delicate
hand, the odour of her warm balmy breath
created no sensation but that of deeper
despair.
Once, and once only did I stand in dan
ger of betrayal. 1t was not in her pre-
sence, for there was invncibIy guarded.
She had been towards the close of the
year unwell; and her physician. as he left
her one evening, taking me aside, told me
that he apprehended She was suffering
from the same fatal cause which had Ges-
troyed her sister. The remainder OF tina,
fearful interview ! do not recollecl; only
remember stern resolution to be1ray no
emotion, and | suppose ! succeeded, for
on the following day DR.. - made no
allusion to what had passed. My atten-
tons to Agnes now became most anxious.
and looked with strangely mingled
feelings for the return of Reginald from
abroad. At length he came-but how
| changed! The fervid climate had done
its work upon him. and his health had
suffered even more than that of Agnes,
during their absence. MADEIRA offered
the only chance of recovery fer both, and
thllhcr they entreated inc to accompany
them. But before our voyage a ccremo.
ny was to be performed, which called for
all the frnness Of my soul. was to
give away the bride; did it, and they
who were present commenced me for the
cheeIu! seriousness with which perform
ed the duty. Could they have read my
heart, how deeply would they have piticd
NE.
Gentle bicezes and calm seas waited us
to the happy innate to which we were
bound, but that elm ate seemed to kave
M balm in store for us. Reginald grew
RAPIDLY worse; and as we tended his sick
couch, Agnes and were scarcely ever
separated. Never in the hours of that
happy summer which we spent together
under the shade Of the old woods, amid
The melody Of birds and the odour of
sweet flowers, did she seem so truly love
ly as when bending over The bed of her
dying husband lie died in our arms,
blessing US.
Before this even. occurred, had never
dared to think of it Icould not bear to
couple anything like hope with the loss of
my earliest and dearest friend, with that
fatal inniclion which would deprive Agnes
Of the husband whom she adored. But
now that he reposed in the bosom of the
green mountains Of Madeira, | myself ex-
pected that some traces of hope, some
embcrs of former feeling would be ava
kened within me. But found that the
current of these feelings had been dried
up. The violence which | had so long
exercised over my heart had crushed it,
and in vain attempted to revive it. Never
in all my former suflerings did exper-
fence sensations so sickening as those
which now oppressed me. 1t seemed as
i: II were loosing the faculty of appreciat-
ing and understanding the virtues and
charms of Agnes, and | grew disguised
with the torror which stole over my soul
lr the meanwhile Agnes visibly declined,
and tbnuuh I matcbol >yo. bos ,,,,,l,