“You are right, it is ever so to strangers, but we, who are sons of the mist, fear no harm from our native atmosphere. Yet do not think this characteristic of our general climate. On the contrary, the northern states, with their rock-bound sea coasts, have a clear bracing atmosphere; the middle states, also, with their varied surface of mountain and valley, and most parts of the southern, are equally healthy. Our own upper counties, and the neighboring inlands, or forest places, as we term them, are not sickly. It is only where the land is low, and as bountifully supplied with bays, inlets and streams as here, that this effect takes place; but see, ‘aunt Nora’ waits with the breakfast.” The aged colored housekeeper, called by this familiar appellation, had been the faithful nurse of the Colonel’s infancy, and, in return, was treated by him with great kindness. She was busied at a little table, in a corner of the room, from which she despatched, by the younger hands of her grandson, Luke, to a larger table in the centre of the apartment, the fine coffee, and more solid comforts of a Maryland breakfast, of which the young friends hastily partook, and then made arrangements for their visit to the _ruins_. The boat was soon in readiness, and they set out, accompanied by Basil and Luke. As the light bark glided along the shore, Frank pointed out several places endeared by the recollections of his childhood. Through an opening in the trees peeped the unobtrusive walls dedicated to country learning, with its play ground, so often the scene of his boyish gambols, and its clear spring under the shade of a sycamore near the river, where a solitary cow was now stooping to drink. “See, Frank,” cried his friend, “she is profaning your Helicon fount!” “Nay, let her drink, Egerton,” he replied, “for, as she is not likely to draw more romantic inspiration than _I_ did from its waters, the spring will lose none of its power from her draught.” “But you have gained what is worth more, sentiments pure and disinterested, with a mind happy and free. ’Tis true, you seldom make reminiscences—but, if you were like me, an orphan, and a native of a clime where, at every step, you meet some relic of the past, you would feel differently. Your country has but a short path to retrace, and is too young to boast of olden days.” “And yet,” replied Frank, archly smiling, “there were times to which we might refer, as equal to any that shed glory on ancient chivalry.” “Granted, and the treasure they left you may well render you careless of other relics.”