The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-03-25
Origin al 9torp.
Written for the Literary Echo.
PLAYING WHIST;
OR,
What Harm is there i'm 1t
BY L'INCOGNITA.

[Concludedl
Four years passed away after Charles
Westland left his friends and country, and
again on cold tempestuous evening in
March, a sorrowful group was gathered in
Mr.. Westland's parlor. An anthracite
fire diffused a genial warmth through the
room-an astral lamp cast its mellow light
around-the apartment looked bright and
cheerful, but sad were the hearts of its oc-
cupants, for that fell destroyer, Consump-
ton, had entered their midst and singled
out one of their number for it's victim, and
they felt that soon the stricken spirit of
the sufferer would be at rest in the bosom
of her God.
Mrs Westland, after the first burst of
agony had been wrung from her heart by
the fatal news of Charles sinful course,
had, with a fortitude truly noble, buried
her sorrows in her own bosom, and with
untiring energy devoted herself to the task
of soothing the acute sufferings of her hus-
band but the herculean task proved too
much for her gentle spirit, and those who
bcheld her wasted frame, the unnatural
brilliancy of her hazel eye, and the hectic
flush which now and then rested on her
paid features, felt that Death had marked
her for his own. Calm and peaceful did
she appear, and if those who watched her
declining days noticed at times, deep
shade of sadness resting on her lovely face,
they saw that it was quickly dispelled by
a heavenly smile of quiet resignation, and
they said to themselves, Consumption
has indeed chosen happy victim" They
knew not that hidden grief was gnawing
at her vitals and destroying the springs of
life at their very fountains.
Her malady was of the mind rather than
of the body, and although her wasted form
seemed more like disembodied spirit than
a human being, yet she had not been con-
fined for whole day to her room during
her illness, and tonight, after her usual
hour of retirement, she had insisted on
remaining with them longer, and seated in
her easy chair, she occupied her usual place
in the family circle. BY her side sat her
faithful companion, whose manly features
bore deep traces of the overwhelming sor-
row that had embittered his very soul.
Ellen, toe, was there happy, cheerful, lovely
Ellen, not indeed the same with regard to
name, for she now bore the title of Mrs.
Greene, but hers was yet the same, kind,
self-forgetting nature, overfowing with the
blessed affections and sympathies of a
guileless spirit. She had continued to
reside with her parents after her marriage,
for she could not leave them when they
had been already so bitterly bereaved, nor,
indeed, could Mrs. Westland long have
survived such separation, SO far did the
influence of her sympathizing, enlivening
spirit, tend to solace the silent sufferings of
her mother.
They we're seated by the quiet ireside-l
the father, mother, and daughter. Fierce
| ly howled the winds in many itful gust
around their dwelling, but their pleasant
room was warm, cheering, comfortable (;
vet sad we're their hearts, for the thoughts
of the invalid mother were far away with
that beloved son, now, perhaps, a friend