In vain for him did Nature clothe herself, on that fair day, in
garments of more than usual beauty. She wooed the owner of Woodbine
Lodge with every enticement she could offer; but he saw not her
charms; felt not the strong attractions with which she sought to win
his admiration. Far away his thoughts were wandering, and in the dim
distance Fancy was busy with half-defined shapes, which her plastic
hand, with rapid touches, moulded into forms that seemed instinct
with a purer life, and to glow with a more ravishing beauty than any
thing yet seen in the actual he had made his own. And as these forms
became more and more vividly pictured in his imagination, the pace
of Edward Markland quickened; and all the changing aspects of the
man showed him to be in the ardour of a newly-forming life-purpose.

It was just five years since he commenced building Woodbine Lodge
and beautifying its surroundings. The fifteen preceding years were
spent in the earnest pursuit of wealth, as the active partner in a
large mercantile establishment. Often, during these busy fifteen
years, had he sighed. for ease and "elegant leisure;" for a rural
home far away from the jar, and strife, and toil incessant by which
he was surrounded. Beyond this he had no aspiration. That "lodge in
the wilderness," as he sometimes vaguely called it, was the bright
ideal of his fancy. There, he would often say to himself--

"How blest could I live, and how calm could I die!"

And daily, as the years were added, each bringing its increased
burdens of care and business, would he look forward to the "good
time coming," when he could shut behind him forever the doors of the
warehouse and counting-room, and step forth a free man. Of the