“Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. 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. \" She replied to him, looking into his blue eyes. Wood's," said the latter, "since I find him at his own gate. ” She leaned back amongst the cushions of her chair. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal. ‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. Mr. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen. A few more minutes, and she was safe.
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