Читать книгу Deep Waters; Or, A Strange Story онлайн

18 страница из 32

“When it happens,” said Mr. Hillston, smiling, “we will talk more about it. Do not be too confident, my boy.”

Ernest went to his office, wondering what in the world the old preacher could mean. Did he intend to predict that the “consummation to be devoutly wished,” at least by himself, would, at last, prove only an idle dream? What would be the use, he thought, of asking God to direct him in so simple an affair as a marriage? Besides, it was too late now. Like Cæsar, he had crossed the Rubicon, and he must go on. He loved Clara with all his heart—why, then, should he not fulfill his engagement? He would do it.

Alas! how short-sighted is man? How quickly are his deep-laid schemes, his skillfully-concocted plans, suddenly overthrown by some unforseen circumstance which had never entered as a factor into his calculations? Man is frequently standing on the very verge of a volcano, and knows it not till the soil crumbles beneath his feet.

ssss1

ssss1 A paleness rests on her face, leanness in the whole body, Never looks direct; her teeth are black with rust: Her breast green with gall; her tongue is dripping with venom.