The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1851-10-23
WESTERLY, R. r, OCTOBER %, 1851.

how deeply her mind was stored with the
gems of pure and noble thought.
Lucy had turned from the piano, and
now listened attentively to the conversation
and the interest with which she regarded
the speakers told how much she was enter
tained.
An hour slipped by, and q know not
why she did it, unless she thought twas
late for her to be up, for certainly she
could not have suspected that her brother
desired her absence,) Lucy quietly left the
room.
The clock struck eleven, but neither
Winfield nor Laura heard it. They still
sat together upon the sofa, and-perhaps
twas strange, but nevertheless 'tis true
their hands were clasped one within that
of the other.
Just as the clock struck the hour of
midnight, Winfield Morgan asked his or
phan companion simple question. He
had asked it dozen times within the last
hour, and he had fortified it by explana-
tons, assurances, protestations, and avow-
ais innumerable. But as he asked it now,
he gently drew the fair form within his
arm, and with flood Of hopeful, prayerful
expression bcaming from his large dark
eyes, he awaited an answer. Laura trem-
bled moment, and then raising her tear
wet, but yet happy face to the gaze of her
companion, she said, in sweet, musical
whisper:
'Ns .
Father said Winfield Morgan, as he
entered the old mans counting-room, on
the next morning after the above CONVEX
sation took place, I have entered into an
engagement with which | deem it proper
you should be acquainted.'
Al, mrttcrcd Mr.. Morgan, as he laid
down the morning paper, and looked ur
over his spcctacles, you want my advice.
Hem-no--not exactly adcice, father
but | should like your approval. The fact
is, l have chosen a partner
Aha-some one who has more expert
ence, and a wider practice, eh ?
No, no. returned Winfield with a
blush, you misunderstood me. TO speal,
plainly, | have chosen for myself wife,
a qciten iterated the old gentleman,
dropping his paper upon the floor, and
gazing upon his son in blank amazcment,
while shadow of pain swept across his
features. No, no, Winfield, you have
not done that
& have, father; but why should the
intelligence trouble you? Surely l am
old enough to marry
sYes, yes, my sOn-you are old enough,
but yet l had hoped that l might have
helped you to a wife
The old gentleman spoke in mournful,
disappointed tone, and after gazing on his
silent son for moment, he continued:
But tell me Winny, who is she ::
sShe has not money, father
'No, [ knor she has not, even though
she would make the world think so, re-
turned Mr.. Morgan, with much emphasis.
SHE make the world think she had
money , uttered Winfield in surprise.
6 No, she is unknown to the world. She
knows not its vices and follics, nor its de-
moralizing fashions but she does know
its virtues, and her heart is ovcr-running
with its best and holiest Affections
Then It's not Miss Fenning,' vcntured
the old man, in tone of suspense.
The Lord preserve me from such as
her. fervontly calculated Winfield. No,
father, tits Laurd AGiermaa.'
A strange trcmor ran through the old
ccntlcman's frame, and an exclamation
was upon his lips, but with visible effort
he rcprcssed it, and in low calm tone, lie
said:
my son YOU had better think well of
this. Miss Ackcrman is utterly pcnniless,
while you know that there are hundreds of
heircsscss whose hands you might obtain by
the mere asking
'Ycs, father said Winfield in reply, q
might obtain them, and find myself in pos
session of hand without heart. No, |
would rather labor for an honest livelihood
than to sell myself to rich wife. | have
made up my mind to possess the fair or
phan, . treasure which money can never