\" She rose to leave the kitchen. "I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs. I'll call it my wedding gift. “Eight, Cavendish Square. 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. In this way, Jack was brought back to Newgate, and again chained down in the Middle Ward. The infant was rescued from a watery-grave by an honest mechanic, who has since brought him up as his own son. You never can tell.
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