"Ah, mint! that explains it," said the minister with satisfaction, his broad face clearing of a slight bewilderment.
"Clem found a beautiful patch of it by a spring half a mile up the river," volunteered Miss Caroline, between dainty pulls at her straw.
"It is a lovely plant—a lovely plant, indeed!" rejoined the minister, for a moment setting down his glass to wipe his brow. "I remember now detecting the same fragrance when I watered my horse at that spring. But I did not dream that it—I wonder—" he broke off, taking up his glass—"that its virtues are not more widely apprehended. I have never heard that an acceptable beverage might be made from it."
"Not every one can make a mint julep as Clem can," said his hostess.
A moist and futile splutter from the bottom of the minister's glass was his only reply.
He set the glass back on the table with a pleasant speculation showing in his eyes. The talk became again animated. Chiefly the minister talked, and his hostess found him most companionable.
"Let me offer you another julep," she said, after a little, noting that his eyes had swept the empty glass with a chastened blankness. The minister let her.
"If it would not be troubling you—really? The heat is excessive, and I find that the mint, simple herb though it be, is strangely salutary."
The minister was a man of years and weight and
