" But seeing that no notice was taken of the retort, he drew a little aside, and folded his arms, muttering, "This whim will soon be over. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. A bad sign; it signified that the heart action was in a precarious state. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him. A woman indeed this to love and be loved, beautiful, graceful, gay. ‘I have told you that I am entirely English. "Fold it … under the pillow.
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