The drive by which Dr. Green took Tryon to his own house led up Front Street about a mile, to the most aristocratic portion of the town, situated¹ on the hill known as Haymount, or, more briefly², "The Hill." The Hill had lost some of its former glory, however, for the blight³ of a four years' war was everywhere. After reaching the top of this wooded eminence⁴, the road skirted for some little distance the brow of the hill. Below them lay the picturesque⁵ old town, a mass of vivid green, dotted here and there with gray roofs that rose above the tree-tops. Two long ribbons of streets stretched away from the Hill to the faint red line that marked the high bluff⁶ beyond the river at the farther side of the town. The market-house tower and the slender spires⁷ of half a dozen churches were sharply outlined against the green background. The face of the clock was visible, but the hours could have been read only by eyes of phenomenal sharpness. Around them stretched ruined walls, dismantled⁸ towers, and crumbling⁹ earthworks—footprints of the god of war, one of whose temples had crowned this height. For many years before the rebellion a Federal arsenal¹⁰ had been located at Patesville. Seized by the state troops upon the secession of North Carolina, it had been held by the Confederates until the approach of Sherman's victorious¹¹ army, whereupon it was evacuated¹² and partially¹³ destroyed. The work of destruction begun by the retreating garrison¹⁴ was completed by the conquerors¹⁵, and now only ruined walls and broken cannon¹⁶ remained of what had once been the chief ornament¹⁷ and pride of Patesville.  
The front of Dr. Green's spacious¹⁸ brick house, which occupied an ideally picturesque site, was overgrown by a network of clinging vines, contrasting most agreeably with the mellow¹⁹ red background. A low brick wall, also overrun with creepers, separated the premises²⁰ from the street and shut in a well-kept flower garden, in which Tryon, who knew something of plants, noticed many rare and beautiful specimens²¹.
 
Mrs. Green greeted Tryon cordially. He did not have the doctor's memory with which to fill out the lady's cheeks or restore the lustre²² of her hair or the sparkle of her eyes, and thereby²³ justify²⁴ her husband's claim to be a judge of beauty; but her kind-hearted hospitality was obvious, and might have made even a plain woman seem handsome. She and her two fair daughters, to whom Tryon was duly presented, looked with much favor upon their handsome young kinsman²⁶; for among the people of Patesville, perhaps by virtue²⁷ of the prevalence of Scottish blood, the ties of blood were cherished as things of value, and never forgotten except in case of the unworthy—an exception, by the way, which one need hardly go so far to seek.
 
The Patesville people were not exceptional in the weaknesses and meannesses which are common to all mankind, but for some of the finer social qualities they were conspicuously²⁸ above the average. Kindness, hospitality, loyalty²⁹, a chivalrous³⁰ deference³¹ to women,—all these things might be found in large measure by those who saw Patesville with the eyes of its best citizens, and accepted their standards of politics, religion, manners, and morals.
 
The doctor, after the introductions, excused himself for a moment. Mrs. Green soon left Tryon with the young ladies and went to look after luncheon³². Her first errand, however, was to find the doctor.
 
"Is he well off, Ed?" she asked her husband.
 
"Lots of land, and plenty of money, if he is ever able to collect it. He has inherited two estates."
 
"He's a good-looking fellow," she mused³³. "Is he married?"
 
"There you go again," replied her husband, shaking his forefinger³⁴ at her in mock reproach. "To a woman with marriageable daughters all roads lead to matrimony, the centre of a woman's universe. All men must be sized up by their matrimonial availability. No, he isn't married."
 
"That's nice," she rejoined reflectively. "I think we ought to ask him to stay with us while he is in town, don't you?"
 
"He's not married," rejoined the doctor slyly, "but the next best thing—he's engaged."
 
"Come to think of it," said the lady, "I'm afraid we wouldn't have the room to spare, and the girls would hardly have time to entertain him. But we'll have him up several times. I like his looks. I wish you had sent me word he was coming; I'd have had a better luncheon."
 
"Make him a salad," rejoined the doctor, "and get out a bottle of the best claret. Thank God, the Yankees didn't get into my wine cellar! The young man must be treated with genuine Southern hospitality,—even if he were a Mormon and married ten times over."
 
"Indeed, he would not, Ed,—the idea! I'm ashamed of you. Hurry back to the parlor³⁵ and talk to him. The girls may want to primp a little before luncheon; we don't have a young man every day."
 
"Beauty unadorned," replied the doctor, "is adorned³⁶ the most. My profession qualifies me to speak upon the subject. They are the two handsomest young women in Patesville, and the daughters of the most beautiful"—
 
"Don't you dare to say the word," interrupted Mrs. Green, with placid³⁸ good nature. "I shall never grow old while I am living with a big boy like you. But I must go and make the salad."
 
At dinner the conversation ran on the family connections and their varying fortunes in the late war. Some had died upon the battlefield, and slept in unknown graves; some had been financially ruined by their faith in the "lost cause," having invested their all in the securities of the Confederate Government. Few had anything left but land, and land without slaves to work it was a drug in the market.
 
"I was offered a thousand acres, the other day, at twenty-five cents an acre," remarked the doctor. "The owner is so land-poor that he can't pay the taxes. They have taken our negroes and our liberties. It may be better for our grandchildren that the negroes are free, but it's confoundedly hard on us to take them without paying for them. They may exal............