" "I know not how it is," sighed Darrell, "but I feel an unaccountable misgiving at quitting this place. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. Let me have a word with him, and you may take all the money. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull.
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