the long avenue of magnolias that were waving their flower-spangled branches in the morning breeze, and loading it with fragrance.  Near him was the table on which her work-basket used to stand.  He remembered how important he felt when permitted to hold the skeins of silk for her to wind, and how he would watch her stitch, stitch, hour after hour, at the screen that now stood beside the fire-place; the colours were faded, but the recollection of the pleasant smiles she would cast upon him from time to time, as she looked up from her work, was as fresh in his memory as if it were but yesterday.  Mr. Garie was assorting and arranging the papers that the desk contained, when he heard the rattle of wheels along the avenue, and looking out of the window, he saw a carriage approaching.

The coachman was guiding his horses with one hand, and with the other he was endeavouring to keep a large, old-fashioned trunk from falling from the top.  This was by no means an easy matter, as the horses appeared quite restive, and fully required his undivided attention.  The rather unsteady motion of the carriage caused its inmate to put his head out of the window, and Mr. Garie recognized his uncle John, who lived in the north-western part of the state, on the borders of Alabama.  He immediately left his desk, and hastened to the door to receive him.

“This is an unexpected visit, but none the less pleasant on that account,” said Mr. Garie, his face lighting up with surprise and pleasure as uncle John alighted.  “I had not the least expectation of being honoured by a visit from you.  What has brought you into this part of the country?  Business, of course?  I can’t conceive it possible that you should have ventured so far from home, at this early season, for the mere purpose of paying me a visit.”

“You may take all the honour to yourself this time,” smilingly replied uncle John, “for I have come over for your especial benefit; and if I accomplish the object of my journey, I shall consider the time anything but thrown away.”

“Let me take your coat; and, Eph, see you to that trunk,” said Mr. Garie.  “You see everything is topsy-turvy with us, uncle John.  We look like moving, don’t we?”

“Like that or an annual house-cleaning,” he replied, as he picked his way through rolls of carpet and matting, and between half-packed boxes; in doing which, he had several narrow escapes from the nails that protruded from them on all sides.  “It’s getting very warm; let me have something to drink,” said he, wiping his face as he took his seat; “a julep—­plenty of brandy and ice, and but little mint.”

Eph, on receiving this order, departed in great haste in search of Mrs. Garie, as he knew that, whilst concocting one julep, she might be prevailed upon to mix another, and Eph had himself a warm liking for that peculiar Southern mixture, which liking he never lost any opportunity to gratify.