Having secured wealth, he
retired from busy life, hoping to find ample enjoyment in the
seclusion of an elegant rural home. But, already, restlessness had
succeeded to inactivity, and now his mind was gathering up its
latent strength for new efforts, in new and broader fields, and
under the spur of a more vigorous impulse.
"Edward!" It was the low voice of his wife, and the soft touch of
her hand, that startled the dreaming enthusiast from visions of
wealth and power that dazzled him with their brilliancy.
"Come, Edward, it is growing late," said his wife.
"How late?" he replied, looking up from the paper he had covered
with various memoranda, and clusters of figures.
"It is past eleven o'clock."
"That cannot be, Agnes. It is only a short time since I left the
table.
"Full three hours. All have retired and are sleeping. Ah, my
husband! I do not like this new direction your thoughts are taking.
To me, there is in it a prophecy of evil to us all."
"A mere superstitious impression, Agnes dear: nothing more, you may
depend upon it.
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