o look upon the forest flowers; more especially upon
the encarmined blossom of the bignonia--now to me a symbol of the
sweetest sentiment. The one most prized of all, I had carefully
preserved. In a glass I had placed it, on the dressing-table of my
chamber, with its peduncle immersed in water.

My zealous care only procured me a chagrin. On returning from one of my
rambles, I found the flower upon the floor, crushed by some spiteful
heel? Was it thy heel, Caroline Kipp? In its place was a bunch of
hideous gilly-flowers and yellow daffodils, of the dimensions of a
drum-head cabbage--placed there either to mock my regard, or elicit my
admiration! In either case, I resolved upon a _revanche_. By its
wound, the bignonia smelt sweeter than ever; and though I could not
restore the pretty blossom to its graceful campanulate shape, from that
time forward it appeared in my buttonhole--to the slight torture, I
fancied, of the backwoods coquette.

In the two days during which I was denied sight of her my love for
Lilian Holt was fast ripening into a passion--which absence only seemed
to amplify. No doubt the contrast of common faces--such as those I
observed in Swampville--did something towards heightening my admiration.
There was another contrast that had at this time an influence on my
heart's inclinings. To an eye, fatigued with dwelling long and
continuously on the dark complexions of the south--the olivine hue of
Aztec and Iberian skins--there was a relief in the radiance of this
carmined blonde, that, apart from her absolute loveliness, was piquant
from the novelty and rareness of the characteristic. Additional
elements of attraction may have been: the _mise en scene_ that
surrounded her; the unexpected discovery of such a precious jewel in so
rude a casket; the romantic incident of our first encounter; and the
equally peculiar circumstances attending our second and last interview.
All these may have combined in weaving around my spirit a spell, that
now embraced, and was likely to influence, every act of my future
existence. Therefore, on the morning of the third day, as I mounted my
horse, and turned his head in the direction of Holt's clearing, it was
not with any design of dispossessing the squatter. Occupied with sweet
love-dreams, I had as yet given no thought to the ruder realities of
life. I had formed no plan for colonising--neither towards entering
upon possession, nor extending the "improvement" I h