Mr. Ephraim Huxter, on perceiving Ben, wreathed his homely features into what was intended for a gracious smile, and, rising, took his nephew's rather unwilling hand.

"So this is Ben," he said. "Bless me, what a young gentleman he's grown, to be sure! Don't you remember me, Ben?"

"No, I don't," said Ben, but not truly, for he had recognized his uncle at first sight. Indeed, any one who had ever seen Mr. Huxter would be likely to remember his harsh features and ungainly form.

"It is your Uncle Ephraim," said his mother.

"Humph!" said Ben, not feeling it necessary to express any pleasure. With his improved fortunes, his pride had developed, and he had come to look upon his mother's brother as a low person, who was immeasurably his inferior.

"Yes, Ben has become quite a gentleman," said his uncle, surveying his broadcloth suit, and gold watch-chain ostentatiously displayed over his vest. "But I dare say he hasn't forgotten when he used to run round in a shirt and overalls, and hoed potatoes at three cents an hour."

Ben did remember distinctly, and the recollection was far from pleasing; so he thought it best to forget it.

"I don't remember anything of the kind," he said, rather roughly.

"I suppose you'd want to be paid better now, ha, ha!" said Mr. Huxter, laughing as if he thought it a capital joke.

"I don't know anything about hoeing potatoes," said Ben, haughtily. "I'm not a laborer."

"No, of course not," said Mr. Huxter. "You and your mother are now rich; but I hope you won't look down on your poor uncle and cousins, who have to grub along as well as they can for a living. Things were different once, to be sure. Once my humble home was thrown open to receive you, and I was glad to give you a shelter, though a lowly one, in your hour of need. I shall always be glad to think of that, though my wife and little ones should starve before my face."

Mr. Huxter deliberately drew from his pocket a red cotton handkerchief, and raised it to his eyes, not to wipe away the tears, for there were none, but to increase the pathos of his remarks. But even with this help they failed to produce the desired effect. Mrs. Oakley remained cool and unaffected, and Ben, turning from his uncle to his mother, said:—

"How soon will supper be ready?"

"You may go and ask Hannah to set the table at once," said Mrs. Oakley.

Ben left the room with alacrity, without taking further notice of his uncle.

"The young cub! I'd like to flog him!" thought his uncle; but he did not consider it polite to give utterance to this thought. "What a gentlemanly appearance Ben has!" he said, instead.

"Yes," said Mrs. Oakley, more graciously; for her pride in Ben was her great, and perhaps it might be said, her only weakness, cool and calculating woman as she was. "I think he will do me credit, brother Ephraim."

"Indeed he will. I am quite proud of him," said Mr. Huxter, who thought he saw the best way to ingratiate himself with his sister. "I can hardly believe he's the same little Ben that used to run round the farm barefooted. He don't like to think of those old times, ha, ha!"

"No," said Mrs. Oakley; "he has a proud spirit, Benjamin has."

"That's all well enough as long as he has money to support it. 'Poor and proud' don't go so well together, sister Jane."

"I don't know," said Mrs. Oakley. "I was once poor, but I never lost my pride. If I had I should have given right up, and made no effort to better myself."

"I know who you're thinking of. You're thinking of me. You think I haven't got any proper pride. Well, I don't know as I have. Misfortunes have come thick and fast, and I've had a hard row to hoe. Hard work and poverty are enough to take away a man's pride."

Mr. Huxter certainly did not look as if he could ever have had much to be proud of; but then, pride and merit do not always go together, and appearances are sometimes deceitful.

"Well," said Mrs. Oakley, now graciously, "perhaps matters may take a turn with you. I cannot do much, for I have Mr. Oakley's son to provide for, as well as Benjamin and myself; but I may be able to do something."

"Thank you, Jane," said Mr. Huxter, more cheerfully. "I was sure you would not harden your heart against your only brother, and leave his family to suffer, while you were living on the fat of the land."

"We will talk further this evening, Ephraim," said Mrs. Oakley. "Excuse me for five minutes, while I go out to the kitchen to see if supper is nearly ready."

"Certainly, Jane. I don't mind confessing that I feel rather hungry myself. I didn't take any dinner at the Half-way House, to-day, for dinner costs money, and with my narrow means I didn't feel as if I could spare half a dollar."

"I am glad you mentioned it. I will see that some cold meat be placed on the table. You must require something hearty."

"It's my praising Ben that fetched her," said Mr. Huxter, when, being left to himself, he began to reflect upon the cause of his sister's sudden and agreeable change of manners. "I shall have to flatter up the young rascal, I expect, though I'd a good deal rather give him a taste of a horsewhip. So he turns up his nose at me, does he? He forgets the time when he'd have been obliged to beg from house to house but for me. Maybe he won't always be prosperous. The race isn't always to the strong, nor the battle to the swift."

Mr. Huxter did not often read the Bible, and was not aware that he had made a trifling mistake in his quotation. His thoughts were turned into a different and more agreeable channel by the reappearance of his sister, and the announcement that supper was ready. He rose with alacrity, and followed Mrs. Oakley into a room in the rear of the parlor, where an abundant and appetizing meal was spread. Mr. Huxter rubbed his hands with satisfaction,—for in his own household the meals were neither abundant nor inviting,—and took his seat at his sister's table. Ben took the head of the table opposite his mother, and John Oakley sat opposite Mr. Huxter.

"Who is this young man?" asked Mr. Huxter, glancing at John. "I have not had the pleasure of an introduction."

"That is John Oakley," said his stepmother, briefly.

"The son of your lamented husband," said Mr. Huxter.

"Yes. Will you have milk and sugar in your tea?"

"Yes, thank you. I hope you are well, Mr. Oakley."

"Quite well, thank you, sir," said John, wondering who was addressing him.

"I am your stepmother's brother," continued Mr. Huxter, "and that makes me a sort of relation, you know."

"Will you help yourself to the toast, Ephraim?" said Mrs. Oakley, in a quick, sharp tone, for she didn't fancy the idea of her brother's paying so much attention to John.

"Thank you, Jane. If it is as nice as your tea, I shall want to help myself more than once. But you were always a good house-keeper."

Mrs. Oakley did not relish this allusion, for she would like to have had everybody forget that she had been a professional house-keeper. She thought her brother was succeeding admirably in making himself disagreeable, and determined that he should not long remain her guest, if she could conveniently get rid of him. But Mr. Huxter had not penetration enough to see that he was displeasing his sister, and continued, his mouth being full of toast:—

"Mr. Oakley must be near your Benjamin's age, Jane."

"I'm almost two years older," said Ben, who had so few points of superiority that he might well claim this.

"Indeed, I shouldn't have thought it," said his uncle; "but then Mr. Oakley is very well grown for his age."

"I don't know that Ben is deficient in that way," said Mrs. Oakley, coldly.

"Oh, no, of course not; I didn't mean to hint such a thing. The boys must be a good deal of company for each other."

"You're mistaken there," said Ben, shortly.

"They are not much together," said Mrs. Oakley. "John goes to school, but Benjamin has finished his education."

"Indeed!" said Mr. Huxter; "pray what studies do you pursue, Mr. Oakley?"

"I am studying Latin, Greek, and mathematics," answered John.

"I want to know! Why, you are quite a scholar! Are you going to college?" asked Mr. Huxter.

"That was what my father intended," said John.

"Mr. Oakley's death has interrupted all our plans," said Mrs. Oakley, coldly, "and we have not had time to form new ones."

"What are your plans for Benjamin?" asked his uncle. "Do you understand Latin and Greek, too, Ben?"

"No; and I don't want to," said Ben. "It's all nonsense, and won't do any good."

"Well, I can't say as I care much about either myself," said Mr. Huxter; "only it is fashionable to study them."

"I don't care whether it is fashionable or not," said Ben; "I shan't waste my time over them."

"Will you have some more toast, Ephraim?" asked Mrs. Oakley, heartily tired of the conversation.

"Thank you, I believe I will."

John mentally decided that Mr. Huxter was a singular man, but did not dream that he was likely to have considerable to do with him, and that ere long.