"Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. She saw his eyes glaze over. What news. 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. You can’t do without an agent, and there’s no one can run you better than I can. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. Seldom they molested a woman who appeared to know where she was going and who kept her glance resolutely to the fore. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. "She has no secrets from me.
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