bstituting that of southwest put the letter
back into the box, in the hope that when he came to consult the envelope
in his pocket (as he would be sure to do sooner or later) he would miss
its contents and return to the post-office in search of it.

Nor was I mistaken. I had scarcely accomplished my task, when he
re-entered the store, asked to see the letters he had returned, and
finding amongst them the one he had lost, disappeared with it back to
the tavern. "If he is surprised to read southwest this time instead of
northeast, he will think his memory played him false in the first
instance," cried I, in inward comment over my last doubtful stroke of
policy; and turning to the postmaster, I asked him what place there was
in the vicinity which could be said to possess grounds and a shrubbery.

"There is but one," he returned, "Mr. Benson's. All the rest of the
folks are too poor to indulge in any such gimcracks."

"And who is Mr. Benson?"

"Well, he is Mr. Benson, the richest man in these parts and the least
liked as I take it. He came here from Boston two years ago and built a
house fit for a king to live in. Why, nobody knows, for he seems to take
no pleasure in it. His children do though, and that is all he cares for
I suppose. Young Mr. Benson especially seems to be never tired of
walking about the grounds, looking at the trees and tying up the vines.
Miss Carrie is different; all she wants is company. But little of that
has her father ever allowed her till this very day. He seems to think
nobody is good enough to sit down in his parlors; and yet he don't sit
there himself, the strange man! but is always shut up in his library or
some other out-of-the-way place."

"A busy man?"

"I suppose so, but no one ever sees any thing he does."

"Writes, perhaps?"

"I don't know; he never talks about himself."

"How did he get his money?"

"That we don't know. It seems to accumulate without his help or
interference. When he came here he was called rich, but to-day he is
said to be worth three times what he was then."

"Perhaps he speculates?"

"If he does, it must be through his son, for he never leaves home
himself."

"Has two children, you say?"

"Yes, a son and a daughter: a famous young man, the son; not so much
liked, perhaps, as universally respected. He is too severe and reticent
to be a favorite, but no one ever found him doing any thing unworthy of
himself. He is the pride of the county, and if he we