’ Taken aback, Gerald let out a short laugh. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that. 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. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. " "I'll not forget it. " "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford.
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