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. Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. It just made me mad to the boiling point. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. He would never be able to compose upon it, but it would serve to produce the finished work.
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