" Spurlock wondered if something hadn't suddenly gone awry in his head. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. She had no intention of fighting fair. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. Kneebone!" "That you would not accept him were he to offer—" "Be silent, Sir. 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. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual.
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