‘She won’t. E. Her steps slowed. In the afternoon he probably loafs in his pajamas. 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. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. It rather astonished him. "The Dawn Pearl!" he said, making to recline again. She did not answer him, as she did not know what to say. Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew sentimental females. ’ ‘That’s better. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting.
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