The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1842-01-22

| MIS- Powers WllnuTeW, MIS- IcTClNdi
retiring soon after, the lovers were left
alone.
"Will yon resume your reading, Ger
ald2" said Edith, after pause of some
length, during which her lover appeared
to be revolving some painful thought in
| his mind.
"No, E!i,h," he said, gently putting
the paper aside, 81 cannot read now. The
narrative Of your talkative friend has a.
Weakened in my mind an idea which |
would fain Danish, but cannot. am
almost ashamed to give it utterance, yet it
is perhaps better should do so, and then
away with it forever. Tell me, then,
Edith-and tell me truly-am the OBJ
ject of your first affection, OR have you
ever loved another2o
The color faded from Edith Percival's
cheek, and her whole frame trembled
with agitation; but after moments hest
tation, she answered, with an unlaltering
voice
"Never!''
"Nor ever gave any one reason TO sup
pose that you loved h!ml"
"Nevern'
s.Bless you for those words, Edith
my OVID, Edith. knew it could not be
so, yet somehow the words that silly wo-
man addressed to you, at parting, produ-
ced on my mind an uneasy feeling,which
has been entirely removed by your candid
answers. Thank you, dearest, for the
kindness with which you have replied to
my interrogatories. 1t has made me
very, very happy; and now, FAREWELL
When we meet next, it will be to part no
more"
Pressing the fair girl to his bosom, he
imprinted kiss on her delicate cheek,
and departed. The next day he ' as on
the road to his distant home.
Three weeks Afterwards, Edith became
the wife of Gerald Douglass. She loved
him tenderly, and, but for one remember
ance, would have been perfectly happy
She had not been sincere with him, and
the fear lest he should discover the de-
ception she had praclised, was the shad-
ow that obscured the bright. Sunshine OF
her bridal days. Bnt as months rolled
by, and nothing occurred to alarm her, as
Douglass never reverted to the subject,
but seemed to grow more and more de-
voted, she forgot her fears, and lulled her
conscience to sleep by the same sophis-
try which had first reconcled her TO a.
departure from the truth. She had told
Douglass that she had never loved before
she knew him, and,this was strictly true,
for the experience Of her present feelings
convinced her that what she had, in the
folly of her earliest youth, mistaken for
love, was mere dream Of fancy, in
which the heart had little or no share
Y Ell she had deceived her lover, for this
same dream, idle and vain as she knew il
to be, had led her to make professions OF
attachment, both verbal and written,which
she wonld now give worlds to retract, and
which she felt conscious would, if known
loosen, if not entirely destroy, her hold
on the proud and sensitive heart Of Doug
lass.
The past, however, could not be re-
called, and as her early lover (who was
lieutenant in the navy had been long
absent, and as no other person knew OF
the affair, she hoped that he, like herself,
would consider it a mere childish folly,
unworthy to be remembered in ripper
years. With this hope, therefore, she
dismissed the subject from her mind, and
prepared to accompany her husband to
her new home.
Months passed away-and Edith, sur
rounded by all the appliances of wealth
and fashion, every wish anticipated by
her doting husband, seemed to have Little
left to desire. She became mother, and
the smiles.o her beautiful infant supplied
all that was necessary to perfect her hap
pness. All that was painful in the past
faded from her remembrance. the de-
lightlul.~ duties of wife and mother COM
pletely absorbed her attention, and SO
faithfully did she perform these duties,
that the admiration and love of her hus-
band daily augmented; and while he
blessed the Providence which had direc-
ted his choice of a wife, he endeavoured,
by every means in his power, to increase
the felicity of one so lovely and worthy
to be beloved.
One day, while Douglass was absent
from homes and Edith was busy in her
nursery, servant brought her card, and
informed her that the gentleman who sent
it was waiting in the drawing-room to see
her. Poor Edith her punishment had
A..
card, deadly sickness came over her,
and she could scarcely conceal her agita-
ton from the servant. Making des-
perate effort, she recovered the compo-
sure of her manner, and descended to the
drawing-room.
A gentleman who was seated near a
window, arose on her enterance, and ad-
vancing to meet her, took her reluctant,
hand, saying, in low voice.