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. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. Operations then commenced. “Dare!” she said. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. One of the reasons why I decline to talk is this: that boy's punishment will be enough.
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