Man's fate is in his own hands. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. “A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. Gerald swore. But all that could be ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time before in the direction of London. ” “I am sorry,” said Ann Veronica. Send for Mr. "Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes.
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