The habitation of Rodolph Maitland was, therefore, deserted by all but Janet, who would gladly have gone that evening to listen to the husband of her young mistress; for Roger Williams was to lead the prayers of the congregation, and to deliver to them the customary address.  But Edith’s little girl demanded her care; and old Janet took too much pride and pleasure in the interesting child to repine at having the charge of her, even though it prevented her from attending at the meeting-house on the first occasion of Roger’s officiating there since his marriage.

Little Edith was just beginning to walk alone, and it was her delight to play in the bright sunny garden, and pluck the gay flowers that still bloomed there in profusion.  She was thus engaged, and murmuring a sweet but inarticulate song that her mother had attempted to teach her, when Janet, apprehending no danger, returned for a moment to the house, to perform some domestic duty.

Just then a stranger, followed by a large dog, entered the garden by the wicket gate that led towards the forest, and stood silently gazing around him, without at first observing the happy and occupied child.  He was tall and of a commanding appearance; and his costume, which was richly ornamented in the Indian fashion, bespoke him to be a native of high rank.  But had any one closely examined his countenance, they would have discovered beneath those long dark lashes, and clearly marked eyebrows, the deep blue eye of the Saxon race, which was also indicated by the rich brown hair, that, now unconcealed, waved across his manly forehead.  A keen eye would also have detected on the features of that seeming Indian Sachem an expression of deep thought and strong emotion, that told of old remembrances not yet obliterated, and of feelings that belonged to home and kindred.

Yes!  Henrich was, indeed, absorbed in those recollections that were revived in his breast by the sight of objects once so familiar, but which many years had elapsed since last he had looked on.  Much was changed:  but much was still the same.  The rude hut commodious log-house that once stood on that site was now replaced by a substantial and picturesque dwelling in the Elizabethan style of architecture, whose deep bay windows were hung with the sweet single roses that were natives of the woods, and other flowering plants; while wreaths of the well-known Virginian creeper, now glowing in its scarlet hue of autumn, climbed to the summit of the carved gables and pinnacles that ornamented the building, and hung from thence in rich festoons.

On the front of this dwelling the evening sun fell brightly, and its slanting beams likewise partially illuminated the garden with long streaks of light, while other parts were thrown into strong shadow by the trees and shrubs that grew among the flower-beds.  One of these—­a noble tulip-tree—­rose in the centre of the enclosure and stretched its giant arms wide on every side.  On this tree the eyes of the wanderer rested long; and then he approached it, and stood looking wistfully towards a bower that was situated near the old tree, and over which the creepers fell in wild luxuriance.