E. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. 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 bit her lip, and then turning her face away, emitted another sigh. ” The conversation hung for a moment. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. ” Anna was speechless, but she had presence of mind enough to sit still until she had recovered herself. He was pretty successful in Manchester,—a town which may be said to have been the head-quarters of the disaffected. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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