—D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. "But if it is your mother, send her about her business. ‘She’s still bleeding. 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. The girl’s eyes never left his face. “Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. ’ ‘Oh, yes I do,’ Martha said, getting up off the bed. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 30-06-2024 06:42:41
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