" "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. 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. They were the same. In the struggle, Mrs. “Did she? I’m sorry, Mike. Gerald watched its approach with vague interest, which quickened when he saw that it was drawing up outside the very house out of which he had just stepped. ” “Well, you can’t say you’re a failure there,” Lady Lescelles remarked, smiling.
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