The thing rankled in her mind night and day. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. He resumed his listening. He hesitated. But I'm not worrying about that. ” “I know. "I never stand upon ceremony where I know I shall be welcome. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. 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. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen.
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