“Of course,” she said diffidently, “this is a boarding-house, although we never take in promiscuous travellers. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. 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. ” “A—what?” Anna asked. " In less time than Hobson had mentioned, the carriage was announced. A little love from him would be enough. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. “There’s the whole situation.
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