CHAPTER XII.





IT was scarcely mid-day when Mr. Markland's carriage drew near to
Woodbine Lodge. As he was about entering the gateway to his grounds,
he saw Mr. Allison, a short distance beyond, coming down the road.
So he waited until the old gentleman came up.

"Home again," said Mr. Allison, in his pleasant, interested way, as
he extended his hand. "When did you arrive?"

"Last evening," replied Mr. Markland.

"Been to the city this morning, I suppose."

"Yes. Some matters of business required my attention. The truth is,
Mr. Allison, I grow more and more wearied with my inactive life, and
find relief in any new direction of thought."

"You do not design re-entering into business?"

"I have no such present purpose." Mr. Markland stepped from his
carriage, as he thus spoke, and told the driver to go forward to the
house. "Though it is impossible to say where we may come out when we
enter a new path. I am not a man to do things by halves. Whatever I
undertake, I am apt to prosecute with considerable activity and
concentration of thought."