George Geith of Fen Court a Novel

ke his flesh creep. CHAPTER III. Day Dreams. It was some days before George Geith was able completely to shake off the disagreeable recollections which his interview with the banker had revived. For so long a time he had forgotten the past, that to have it suddenly reproduced before him was like waking from calm sleep and pleasant dreams to the memory of some grievous trouble which has been forgotten during slumber. In the happiness of a recent present, the past of long ago, with its temptations, which he had not resisted; with its allurements, which had successfully enticed him; with its sorrows, which he had not encountered manfully; with its shame, which he dreaded to face, had all gone down among those dead memories which we are forced to entomb in our hearts. He had hidden their sepulchres away even from his own sight. He had hung roses and garlands over them, and forgotten there were graves below. He had strewed flowers, fresh flowers, gathered for him by the hands of the living, over the bodies he had coffined. He had looked out over a new existence, and found it to be very lovely; and behold! just ashe was going out to greet it, there came a general resurrection, and the woes and griefs put aside, as he thought for ever, trooped back with ghastly faces to meet him on the threshold of a happier life. Was it chance, accident, coincidence, or fate? he asked himself, as he thought over the matter calmly. Was it a warning? Pooh! what did he care ... --This text refers to the Paperback edition.