Page:Ethel Churchill 2.pdf/162

160 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,—