that you were one of the exempt,
that everything was to smile upon you, that prosperity was to attend
your footsteps even to the close of life. But fear not, fear not,
Wilton--this is only a momentary frown of the capricious goddess. She
will smile again, and all be bright. It is not in your fate to be
unfortunate!"
"Nay, nay, Sherbrooke, this is cruel jesting," said Wilton. "Surely
my lot is no very enviable one."
"It is one of those that mend, Wilton," replied Sherbrooke, sadly. "I
live but to lose."
He spoke with a tone of deep and bitter melancholy; and Green, who
had hitherto scarcely uttered a word, chimed in with feelings of as
sad a kind; adding, as an observation upon what Lord Sherbrooke had
said, "Who is there that lives past twenty that may not say the same?
Who is there that does not live to lose?--First goes by youth, down
into that deep, deep sea, which gives us back none of all the
treasures that it swallows up. Youth goes down and innocence goes with
it, and peace is then drowned too. Some sweet and happy feelings that
belonged to youth, like the strong swimmers from some shipwrecked
bark, struggle a while upon the surface, but are engulfed at last.
Strength, vigour, power of enjoyment, disappear one by one. Hope,
buoyant hope, snatching at straws to keep herself afloat, sinks also
in the end. Then life itself goes down, and the broad sea of events,
which has just swallowed up another argosy, flows on, as if no such
thing had been; and myriads cross and re-cross on the same voyage the
spot where others perished scarce a day before. It is all loss,
nothing but loss," and he again fell into a fit of bitter musing.
"Come, Wilton," said Lord Sherbrooke, after a moment's thought, "I
will show you a room where you can sleep. These are but melancholy
subjects, and your fancies are grave enough already. They will be
brighter soon--fear not, Wilton, they will be brighter soon."
"I know not what should brighten them," replied Wilton. "But I will
willingly go and seek sleep for an hour or two, as I must depart by
daylight to-morrow. In the meanwhile, Sherbrooke, I will ask you to
let me write a brief note to the Duke, and trust to you to send it as
early as may be; for to say the truth, in the bitter disappointment I
have met with, and the harsh language which he used towards me, I
forgot altogether to mention what you told me this morning."
The materials for writing were soon furnished, although Lord
Sherbrooke declared, that were he in Wi