Mr. Garie, on leaving the house, slowly wended his way to the residence of Mr. Walters.  As he passed into the lower part of the city, his attention was arrested by the number of coloured children he saw skipping merrily along with their bags of books on their arms.

“This,” said he to himself, “don’t much resemble Georgia."[*]

[Footnote *:  It is a penal offence in Georgia to teach coloured children to read.]

After walking some distance he took out a card, and read, 257, Easton-street; and on inquiry found himself in the very street.  He proceeded to inspect the numbers, and was quite perplexed by their confusion and irregularity.

A coloured boy happening to pass at the time, he asked him:  “Which way do the numbers run, my little man?”

The boy looked up waggishly, and replied:  “They don’t run at all; they are permanently affixed to each door.”

“But,” said Mr. Garie, half-provoked, yet compelled to smile at the boy’s pompous wit, “you know what I mean; I cannot find the number I wish; the street is not correctly numbered.”

“The street is not numbered at all,” rejoined the boy, “but the houses are,” and he skipped lightly away.

Mr. Garie was finally set right about the numbers, and found himself at length before the door of Mr. Walters’s house.  “Quite a handsome residence,” said he, as he surveyed the stately house, with its spotless marble steps and shining silver door-plate.

On ringing, his summons was quickly answered by a well-dressed servant, who informed him that Mr. Walters was at home, and ushered him into the parlour.  The elegance of the room took Mr. Garie completely by surprise, as its furniture indicated not only great wealth, but cultivated taste and refined habits.  The richly-papered walls were adorned by paintings from the hands of well-known foreign and native artists.  Rich vases and well-executed bronzes were placed in the most favourable situations in the apartment; the elegantly-carved walnut table was covered with those charming little bijoux which the French only are capable of conceiving, and which are only at the command of such purchasers as are possessed of more money than they otherwise can conveniently spend.

Mr. Garie threw himself into a luxuriously-cushioned chair, and was soon so absorbed in contemplating the likeness of a negro officer which hung opposite, that he did not hear the soft tread of Mr. Walters as he entered the room.  The latter, stepping slowly forward, caught the eye of Mr. Garie, who started up, astonished at the commanding figure before him.

“Mr. Garie, I presume?” said Mr. Walters.

“Yes,” he replied, and added, as he extended his hand; “I have the pleasure of addressing Mr. Walters, I suppose?”

Mr. Walters bowed low as he accepted the proffered hand, and courteously requested his visitor to be seated.

As Mr. Garie resumed his seat, he could not repress a look of surprise, which Mr. Walters apparently perceived, for a smile slightly curled his lip as he also took a seat opposite his visitor.