\"Good night, girls. "I'm sure he won't attempt to prevent me," rejoined Thames. 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. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Miss Moffatt, the history and moral instruction mistress, was particularly explicit upon this score, and they all agreed in indicating contempt and pity for girls whose minds ran on such matters, and who betrayed it in their conversation or dress or bearing. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. Why must her old nurse discover her precisely at this moment? ‘What are you at now, may I ask?’ Martha glared at the footman. But I have heard that he almost had to leave the schools. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. For a few moments, Thames regarded the little girl through the half-opened door in silence. ‘Murder is serious business, Gianfrancesco.
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