wever, a girl made her appearance with
the usual inquiry, "Did you call, sir?" "Yes, yes, Susan, bring some
lights here as soon as you can!"

A pause ensued, which was broken by the Judge's remarking that it had
been a very hot day, and Harry Benson's assenting, "Yes, very hot,
really wonderful weather for the time of year." Ashburner tried to say
something, but it is hard talking in the dark, to a gentleman you have
never seen, especially when you are in his own house; so Ashburner gave
it up after one or two attempts, and another pause ensued, fortunately
broken by Susan's return with a couple of lighted candles, in
old-fashioned silver candlesticks.

Ashburner now looked at the Judge with some interest, which was rather
cooled down by observing that he was looking with an equal curiosity at
himself. This scrutiny, though brief, seemed, however, satisfactory, for
the Judge told Susan to tell Miss Mary that Mr. Benson and one or two
other gentlemen were there.

Ashburner's glance showed him that the Judge was a large and
intelligent-looking man apparently about fifty, and though dressed
carelessly, bearing the marks of a gentleman. But Ashburner also saw
that though the Judge was a gentleman, he was by no means a fashionable
or even a polished one. He was simply one of those well-bred men in whom
simplicity is more perceptible than refinement, while good sense and
good feelings prevent any gross breaches of etiquette.

From looking at its owner, Ashburner turned to look at the room they
were seated in. It was a parlor of medium size, with a low ceiling and
plainly papered walls. On the latter hung several old-fashioned
portraits, one of which was evidently the Judge's, another his wife's,
and two more his parents'. Besides, there were one or two drawings, and
their pleasing gracefulness and ease formed an agreeable contrast to the
prim and starched old relics they hung beside. In the middle of the room
was a centre table of the same old-fashioned cast as the pictures, but
covered with those little articles of taste that none but a lady can
select and arrange.

"Mr. Ashburner is an Englishman, Judge," said Karl, after some other
remarks, "and I am showing him how simply we American farmers live."

"Is it possible?" said the Judge, looking intently at Ashburner; "well,
now, I should never have thought so if you had not told me. He looks
more like an American than a foreigner: it's very singular, quite
unusual. Do