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. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding him annually about half a million nuts. “Who will you stop with?” “I shall go on my own. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. I knew it was only a matter of time before the boys started paying attention to you, Lucy. Lucilla clearly adored her betrothed, anyone could see that. “There’s endless reasons, no doubt, why we shouldn’t,” he said.
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