departure, he took my hand in his and held it firmly, as if to say, "I
shall come back, Emily, don't feel badly." I looked him the grateful
recognition my heart felt, and I crowded back the tears that were ready
to fall, and when we drove home, our little lady chatting all the way, I
was happier than before I went.

Monday morning came and with it Hal's departure. We were up betimes. I
think Hal slept little, and I heard the old clock strike nearly every
hour, and was down stairs before either mother or father were up. He was
to take the stage at half-past eight, and ride to the nearest station,
and our breakfast was ready at half-past six. It was a sad breakfast,
and though mother tried hard to keep up a conversation on different
topics, it was useless. Tears would fill our eyes, and brother Ben,
though at that time only about thirteen, was forced to leave his
breakfast untasted, and, rising hastily, to take himself out of Hal's
sight; but the stage came rumbling down the road, and almost ere we knew
it, our good-byes were said, and Hal was waving his handkerchief from
his high seat beside the driver, from whence he could see the old home
for a long distance.

Everything, so far as his plans were concerned, worked favorably, and a
chance inquiry, resulted in a good offer as book-keeping clerk in a
wholesale warehouse in Chicago. Chicago was in her youth then. Many
changes have passed over the city of the West since those days, but her
mercantile houses were never in a more flourishing condition than during
Hal's stay there. Father had informed himself regarding the man with
whom he was to be connected, and was well satisfied of his integrity,
ability, etc.

When Hal was fairly gone I went to my room and cried disconsolately, and