They melted down to earth my upward wings;
I half forgot the higher, better things—
The hope which yet again thy image brings.
Would I were worthier of thee! I am fain,
Amid my life of bitterness and pain,
To dream once more my early dreams again.
Walter was disturbed by a low rap at the door. It was so indistinct and hesitating, that, at first, he thought himself mistaken; a second summons, however, led him to rise and open to his visitor. It was the very person that he foreboded—Mr. Curl. The gentleman stood for a moment, watching him close the door very reluctantly; and then took refuge, rather than a seat, in the window, having most ingeniously contrived to place two chairs, as a sort of barrier, between himself and his host. Walter resumed his place, and each kept silence for a few moments: a silence broken by Walter himself.
"I am afraid," said he.
"Afraid of what?" exclaimed Curl, looking round with an air of alarm.
Maynard subdued a smile, and continued,—
