"I look out at some early hour of the day, and see a fine, perfect rainbow, bright with promise, gloriously spanning the beclouded welkin of life. An hour afterwards I look again: half the arch is gone, and the rest is faded. Still later, the stern sky denies that it ever wore so benign a symbol of hope."
"Well, Mr. Moore, you should contend against these changeful humours. They are your besetting sin. One never knows where to have you."
"Miss Keeldar, I had once, for two years, a pupil who grew very dear to me. Henry is dear, but she was dearer. Henry never gives me trouble; she--well, she did. I think she vexed me twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four----"

"In the morning I look out and see a fine, perfect rainbow, bright with promise. Yet it is broken and faded within an hour. Later still, the stern sky denies that it ever wore so benign a symbol of hope."
"Well, Mr. Moore, you should contend against these changeful moods. They are your besetting sin."
"Miss Keeldar, I had once, for two years, a pupil who grew very dear to me. Henry is dear, but she was dearer, although she vexed me twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four-"
