” She threw away the end of her cigarette. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. "I can escape to France. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. It was if the world had blinked out for a moment. The first was to break a dinner engagement. 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. From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops. But I must, they say, and try to make me with the punishments.
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