Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1852-06-17
EDGEFIELD, S. c., JUNE Il, 1852.

| chanced to take up newspaper that wa
on the table. 1t a was a New York paper
and with sudden impulse Of affection to
wards his native land, he glanced over it
columns. From the time of his leaving it
he had never looked at an American paper
nor had he ever had any tidings from Wood
vile, as he had never corresponded will
any of his early friends; consequently HI
WAS utterly ignorant Of all that had trans
pired there during his absence. As PhiIiI
| now read, he came to the lists of marriage!
and deaths, and looked to see if there were
any names he knew, among them. At length
among the deaths, his eye fell upon the fol
lowing:
"Died, at his residence, at Woodville, or
the sixteenth instant, Charles Sutherland
ESQ.,, in the 45th year of his age. The de-
ceased has left a wife and infant family te
mourn his loss"
The paper fell from Philips hand as he
read, the blood forsook his cheek, and left
him pale as death; but swiftly returned
again, as he thought that Alice was again
free. For snme time he sat in sort ol
stupor, hardly able to realize the event. then
taking up the paper, he looked at the date
it was an old one, of the previous February
ard it was now August. Alice then had
been a widow six months. Taking the pa.
per with him, Philip left the office, and has,
tened to take his passage on board vessel
that was to sail for New York the following
morning. He then returned to his agents
and made the necessary arrangements for
his departure; and, in a few days, Philip
Maynard was once more on the broad At.
lantic-but, with feelings, how different
from those with which he had left the shores
of his native land as he had thought forever
then so utterly miserable and hopeless
now with such trembling alterations ol
hope and fear! Perhaps Alice had forgot.
ten him; other objects might now hold that
place in her heart that he had once held
aud she might care no more for him. But
he would not let himself think so for an in.
slant. He was sure that when she found
herself once more free, her thoughts would
turn to him.
The voyage seemed intcrminable to him,
but it came to an end at last, and soon after,
Philip stood once more in his native village.
1t looked little altered since he had last be-
held it, and his eyes filled with tears as they
rested on the cottage where his happy child
hood had been passed. He was most impa-
tient once more to behold Alice, and hear
from her own lips ihat she was not changed,
50 he immediately bent his steps towa1ds tue
residence of the late Charles Sutherland.
He entered tue beautiful garden, where;
when they were all merry, thoughtless chill
dren, Alice and ile had often played with
Charles and his sisters His heart beat fast
as he approached the door, and when the
servant opened it, it was some moments be-
fore he could command his voice sufficiently
to ask if Mrs. Sutherland was at home. He
was shown into a parlor he well remember
cd, while the servant informed Mrs. Suther-
land that gentleman wished to see her.
Philip did not mention his name. The few
moments he had to wait seemed an age to
him. He could not sit still, but walked to
the window and looked out, without howev-
er seeing the beautiful prospect that lay en-
tended before him. At length he heard a
light step in the passage, he turned quickly
to the door, it opened, and tall, dark.
eyed lady, l,abited in deep mourning, total
stranger to him, entered. Philip was much
disappointed, but bowing, he informed her
that he wished to see Mrs. Sutherland.
"That is my name, sir" said the lady, 81
am the widow Of the late Charles Suther'
land"
"You, impossible" said Philip, "you
were not Alice Temple"
40, no." she replied, that was the name
of Mr.. Suthcrland's first wife"
His first wife. The words sounded like a
knell to Philips heart, and he sank on a
chair almost supplied, while Mrs. Sutherland
proceeded saying quietly, :" but she has been
dead q long time. She died within year
after her marriage. have heard that she
died of broken heart. as her father obliged
her to marry against her will. But, you are
i'll, sir; were you relation Of the uniortu-
nate lady!"
Philip rose, and wishing her good morn
ing, hastily left the house, feeling most ut
terlv miserable. Alice dead. This last
blow was even worse than the first. He
had so fixed his mind upon the happiness ol
once more seeing her, so shut out all idea OF
any change, that now the disappointment
was almost more than he could bear. lie
went to the the little inn, and locking him.
s"lf in his room, gave unrestrained way to
his great grief.