| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Manon Lescaut by Abbe Prevost: the sums of money which from time to time he received from her.
No doubt, as he played very deep, he was honest enough to repay
her a part sometimes, when luck turned in his favour; but our
finances were utterly inadequate to supply, for any length of
time, demands of such magnitude and frequency.
"I was on the point of coming to an understanding with him, in
order to put an end to the system, when an unfortunate accident
saved me that trouble, by involving us in inextricable ruin.
"One night we stopped in Paris to sleep, as it had now indeed
become our constant habit. The servant-maid who on such
occasions remained alone at Chaillot, came early the next morning
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Princess by Alfred Tennyson: And so much grace and power, breathing down
From over her arched brows, with every turn
Lived through her to the tips of her long hands,
And to her feet. She rose her height, and said:
'We give you welcome: not without redound
Of use and glory to yourselves ye come,
The first-fruits of the stranger: aftertime,
And that full voice which circles round the grave,
Will rank you nobly, mingled up with me.
What! are the ladies of your land so tall?'
'We of the court' said Cyril. 'From the court'
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Tapestried Chamber by Walter Scott: prevent it, be exposed to a repetition of the supernatural
horrors which could shake such courage as yours."
Thus the friends, who had met with such glee, parted in a very
different mood--Lord Woodville to command the Tapestried Chamber
to be unmantled, and the door built up; and General Browne to
seek in some less beautiful country, and with some less dignified
friend, forgetfulness of the painful night which he had passed in
Woodville Castle.
END OF THE TAPESTRIED CHAMBER.
*
DEATH OF THE LAIRD'S JOCK by Sir Walter Scott.
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