It Was The Best Of Times, It

Home Is A Name, A Word, It Is A Strong One; Stronger Than Magician Ever Spoke, Or Spirit Ever Answered To, In The Strongest Conjuration.

Stranger, Pause And Ask Thyself The Question, Canst Thou Do Likewise? If Not, With A Blush Retire.

The More Especially, As In My Juvenile Frankness, I Took Some Credit To Myself For Being So Confidential And Felt That I Was Quite The Patron Of My Two Respectful Entertainers.

To Be Allowed To Call Her "dora", To Write To Her, To Dote Upon And Worship Her, To Have Reason To Think That When She Was With Other People She Was Yet Mindful Of Me, Seemed To Me The Summit Of Human Ambition - I Am Sure It Was The Summit Of Mine.

The Bright, Frosty Day Declined As They Walked And Spoke Together. The Sun Dipped In The River Far Behind Them, And The Old City Lay Red Before Them, As Their Walk Drew To A Close. The Moaning Water Cast Its Seaweed Duskily At Their Feet, When They Turned To Leave Its Margin; And The Rooks Hovered Above Them With Hoarse Cries, Darker Splashes In The Darkening Air.