"I thought you were never apprehensive," remarked Peggy. "With your composure and gallantry the world would judge that cares set lightly upon your head."
"Happy is he who can abandon everything with which his conscience is burdened. I have enjoyed no peace of soul for years and I see an untimely end."
"Be not so melancholy," observed Arnold. "My boy, the future and the world lie before you."
"Like a yawning abyss," was the grave reply.
"Oh! spare us your terrible verdicts," cried Peggy with a smile.
"I believe that I should have crushed with my scorn the philosopher who first uttered this terrible but profoundly true thought," said Anderson. "'Prudence is the first thing to forsake the wretched!'"
"Have you been imprudent?" she asked.
"I did find a charm in my escapades. At first I tingled with fear, but I gradually laid aside that cloak of suspicion which guards safety, and stalked about naked. A despicable contempt arises from an unreserved intimacy. We grow bolder with our efforts."
"What is success?" asked Peggy.