“You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for
my husband?”
“You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. 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. When at first she had realized that he
206
had conducted a sexual affair with a local well-known
Florentine courtesan she called him out, accusing him of
exposing her to an array of diseases. "No. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered
the Lodge. So it does. Her new husband was pleased to watch the astonished
look on her face as tray after tray appeared on the grand
table, each better than the next. I trust you will not accuse me of discourtesy if I express my pleasure
that henceforth our ways will lie apart. . Me, I have a question for you first. "No, I tell you," rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his way out of the crowd. "
"Would he had done so!" cried Jack.
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