" As if an order had come to her somewhere out of space, the girl glanced sideways at the other young fool. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. ” “And I,” Brendon said, humbly, “although I am afraid there is no chance for me, my errand was the same. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. 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.
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