It is her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets. She continued to fan herself. "You were a little out of your head. The name of his father's murderer is also known to me. 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. One of these was a classification of women into women who are and women who are not hostile to men. She lay very still and closed her eyes, hear tears gliding off of her ears, causing them to itch. "With your friends, dear Mrs.
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