"I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. " "Pray come to the point, Sir," said Mrs. She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. "Hear me!" cried Thames, bursting into tears. 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. Until two hours ago she was as contented and as happy as a linnet. I know that in my heart I would take whatever he gave. The stranger concluded he could not be far from his destination, and a turn in the road showed him the house. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him.
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