7. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. After Gwen!” “I sent a telegram. I'll repay you. ’ ‘For shame, Hilary,’ admonished his fiancée, casting a pitying glance at the refugees. \" It was a lie: Lucy ate one forced meal a day, supper. ” She glanced at Brendon, who stood by her side, tall and threatening. 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. "I'd rather you went over the last four chapters, which I haven't polished yet. Tell me, Sir," he added, advancing towards the knight, "tell me has this man spoken falsely?— Tell me my mother is alive, and do what you please with me.
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