the pine
forests, and entered the grove of live-oaks that shaded the walks and
drives of Waverly. The house itself was a somewhat imposing structure,
with a double veranda in front, supported by immense pillars, and
surrounded on all sides by magnificent trees. Here, as Helen and her
aunt had heard on all sides, a princely establishment had existed in the
old time before the war--an establishment noted for its lavish
hospitality. Here visitors used to come in their carriages from all
parts of Georgia, from South Carolina, and even from Virginia--some of
them remaining for weeks at a time, and giving to the otherwise dull
neighborhood long seasons of riotous festivity, which were at once
characteristic and picturesque. The old days had gone to come no more,
but there was something in the atmosphere that seemed to recall them.
The stately yet simple architecture of the house, the trees with their
rugged and enormous trunks, the vast extent of the grounds--everything,
indeed, that came under the eye--seemed to suggest the past. A
blackened and broken statue lay prone upon the ground hard by the
weather-beaten basin of a fountain long since dry. Two tall granite
columns, that once guarded an immense gateway, supported the fragmentary
skeletons of two colossal lamps. There was a suggestion not only of the
old days before the war, but of antiquity--a suggestion that was
intensified by the great hall, the high ceilings, the wide fireplaces,
and the high mantels of the house itself. These things somehow gave a
weird aspect to Waverly in the eyes of the visitors; but this feeling
was largely atoned for by the air of tranquillity that brooded over the
place, and it was utterly dispersed by the heartiness with which they
were welcomed.

"Here we is at home, ma'am," exclaimed Uncle Prince, opening the
carriage-door, and bowing low; "en yon' come ole Miss en Miss Hallie."

The impression which Helen and her aunt received, and one which they
never succeeded in shaking off during their visit, was that they were
regarded as members of the family who had been away for a period, but
who had now come home to stay. Just how these gentle hosts managed to
impart this impression, Helen and Miss Tewksbury would have found it
hard to explain; but they discovered that the art of entertaining was
not a lost art even in the piny woods. Every incident, and even
accidents, contributed to the enjoyment of the guests. Even the weather
appeared to e