“The foine gintleman that he is. 'How do you do, Mrs. Crowley.' sez he, and he shakes me hand as jintly as if I was a born lady. And the pretty sister that he has, an' the beautiful wife. An' he's the President of the State, an' sez he, 'Mrs. Crowley, how do you do, an' it's delighted I am to see you again.'” Mrs. Crowley wiped her eyes with her apron and resumed her household duties, occasionally repeating, “'How do you do, Mrs. Crowley.' When Dan comes to-night I'll tell him what the Governor said.” Hiram soon joined the party, it being his night off. As of old, he stammered, or stuttered, when excited, and the sight of Quincy and Alice was enough to entirely disorganize his speaking apparatus. “Ain't this jolly?” said he. “Just like old times. I heerd you was at Miss Hawkinses, but I didn't think as how you'd git round here so quick. But we're mighty glad to see 'em, ain't we, Mandy? I hope you're all as hungry as I am.” He went to the kitchen door and called, “Mrs. Crowley, we're waiting for the supper.” “How I wish Uncle Ike could be with us,” said Alice. “Why can't you call him?” asked Quincy. “He's too weak in his legs to come down,” said Mandy. “I'll fetch him,” and Quincy bounded up stairs, while Mandy got a place ready for him. Quincy soon returned with Uncle Ike in his arms and placed him in a big arm-chair at the head of the table. Alice looked up and smiled at her husband. “Now it is much more like old times,” she said, softly. Maude, who had been an interested listener and spectator, finally exclaimed, “I'm not surprised that you stayed down here four months, Quincy, but we used to wonder, until we saw Alice, what the great attraction was.” Maude's explosive remark caused a general laugh in which Uncle Ike joined. Alice, feeling that all eyes were fixed upon her, blushed prettily, “As my husband's residence here brought good to others as well as to myself, I am glad that a poor, blind girl, such as I was, proved an attraction strong enough to keep him here.” She stopped, somewhat abashed at making so long a speech, which Maude might think indicated that she was offended at her sister-in-law's reference to herself. “Bravo, Alice,” cried Uncle Ike, “so say we all of us.” After supper all adjourned to the parlour. Quincy offered to carry Uncle Ike. “No, young man. I'm all right on an even floor. It's these up and down stairs that tire my loose joints”--and he made his way, without assistance, to an easy chair in a farther corner. Quincy looked about the room. Five years had made little change. The old square piano was in its accustomed place, as well as the music stand. He looked over the pieces--the same ones that he and Alice had sung together years ago. “Let's have some music,” said Hiram. “We haven't heard any singers, except Dan, since you folks went away. Guess that pianner's out of tune by this time.”