It was a clear beautiful morning—such a day as we all like to see when going on a long journey, or expecting to go.

Ella sprang from her bed with a cry of delight. “Mattie,” said she. “Oh Mattie, just look out. What a beautiful day we will have for our journey to the Springs!”

Mattie raised [sic] up from her bed and looked out and was delighted at the beautiful appearance of the morn.

“We will go down, Ella, and take a walk up the lane before breakfast,” asserted Mattie as she dressed herself hastily. They went down and found all in the kitchen astir. They took a walk up the road as they had said they would, and then they proceeded to dress themselves for the journey. They were congratulating themselves upon their good luck in having so fine a morning to start on their journey. They were going to the Rockbridge Alum Springs.

“I hope we will get off this time—we were disappointed the other time,” said Mattie to Ella.

“Yes, I hope we may have good luck this time,” responded Ella. “Won’t Willie and myself have a nice time when we get to the Springs? Ah, we will, you bet.”

“I trust you will,” said Mattie dryly.

“You talk so dry about it, Mattie—but you never were in love and you don’t know how pleasant it is to have a lover.”

“Well, it may be very pleasant,” said Mattie evasively. “I hope you will always live happy with Willie.”

They went downstairs and found the two young men on the porch.

William was sitting on a bench just opposite Herbert. So Ella went where William was and took a seat by his side. Mattie followed suit and took a seat beside Herbert—it was a large porch. William could speak all of his love words to Ella, and Herbert could not hear what he said at that distance—Herbert had love words to speak to his lady-love, so he did not bother after the alleged William Reed.

“Bertie—dear Bertie, I am so glad you have come to see me,” said Mattie in a low voice as she took a seat beside him.

“Thank you, dear Mattie, for your kind-loving words—but let us take a walk up the lane,” said Herbert as he rose to suit action to his words. Mattie consented, and they started on their walk up the lane—It was not the lane that Ella and Mattie took a walk in, but a lane that led in a different direction.

“Bertie, I do wish we were not going to the Springs—at least I wish I were not going, for I would rather be with you.”

“Yes, dearest, I would be glad if something would happen to keep you from going—not anything happen to you, my dear, but—well, just something so as you would not go,” said Herbert affectionately.

They sat down on a log that was laying [sic] near the bank of the creek, and there they spoke words of love.

In the course of half an hour, they returned to the house, and as breakfast was ready, they sat down and ate.

“Well, it seems as if you are going away for certain this time,” said Hugh Walters as they sat at the breakfast table—he did not speak to anyone in particular but merely made the assertion to anyone that chose to reply to it. Sowers was the first one to speak when Hugh ceased.

“Yes, I believe we will get off this time,” said Sowers. “But it is so late in the season, it is hardly worth our while going. What do you say to it, Mattie?”

Herbert’s heart seemed as if it would jump out of his mouth as he awaited Mattie’s answer, hoping Mr. Sowers would acquiesce in her decision.

“I don’t want to go, Father—or I don’t care much about going,” stammered Mattie, and she cast a “Sheep’s eye” at Herbert.

“Well, we will go upon account of William’s health. It will do him good to go up there,” commented Sowers. Then, turning to Wilse, he said, “Wilson, I commend my horses and cattle to your care once more. I hope you will faithfully execute the duties of the office in which you are placed to the best of your ability.”

“I promise to faithfully execute the duties of the office of Chief Magistrate of the cows and horses to the best of my ability,” said Wilse jokingly—would he have been joking if he had known how near retribution was at hand? Retribution for all the evil he had done? No, he would not, we presume.

“Herbert, why don’t you go to the Springs with us?” asked Mrs. Sowers.

“I can’t well go, for our corn will have to be gotten in and I want to help Father all I can, for we are going to move to New England this autumn,” answered Herbert.

“I thought your father was going to Washington. Has he changed his mind?” inquired Sowers.

“Yes sir, he has changed his mind, and I am glad of it, for I want to see my old home in Massachusetts once more,” replied Herbert. “Are you going to New England again, Mr. Sowers?”

“Yes, my wife is tired of Virginia and I am going to New England again.”

“May I inquire what part of New England?” interrogated Herbert.

“Yes. I believe I will go to Boston,” answered Sowers. “I think we may do well there, and I certainly do like the city.”

“Luck-a-day! We are going to Boston too,” exclaimed Herbert gleefully.

“Well, we will start a business there,” asserted Sowers, “in the name of ‘Armstead, Walters, Sowers, &co.’”

“Why, Walters, are you going too?” asked Herbert in surprise.

“Yes, Father and Mother are tired of Virginia, and they are preparing now to go East,” said Hugh. “I am tired of this country too.”

“Are you for Boston too?” inquired Ella.

“Yes, we are for Boston. Father thinks he can carry on a better and more extensive business there than he can here,” answered Hugh. “I know he can, for Boston is a large city, while Winchester is only a small town,” added he, after a moment’s pause.

“It is very likely you will do better,” said Sowers as he rose from the table—the others followed suit.

A few words will suffice to tell something about Hugh’s parents. We do not intend to bring them as characters in this narrative any more than is necessary.

Mr. Wilbur Walters—Hugh’s father—was an Extensive dealer in Boots and Shoes in the towns of Winchester and Berryville. He was pretty well-to-do, if not wealthy. He had several sons and daughters. Hugh and Annie were the oldest. Hugh thought a great deal of his sister. She was the only female he had ever love[d] except his mother and, of course, his smaller sisters—but he loved this sister dearly—very dearly. We said we would be brief, so we will not go back on our word. We will turn our attention to the tourists. They were fast preparing for their journey.

While they are preparing, and as “William” seems to be a suspicious character, we will follow him as he walks down through the yard studying about something. We let him speak for himself:

“I do not love Ella, but I must marry her,” said he. Then, thinking of the kindness she as well as others had shown him, he said: “I ought to be grateful for what they have done for me and tell them what a part I have been playing, and rely upon them for forgiveness. I have been a very bad man in my short life. I can’t bear to play the part I have been playing, but I do hate so bad to throw myself on their generosity. Now they are going to take me to the Springs for my health. I do not deserve such generosity on their part. And poor Ella, I have made her believe I love her and I have exacted a promise from her. Must I keep on in this way? No, I must stop it. If I do not, [I won’t] be forgiven for my evil deeds. I must stop.”

The young man started toward the house, determined to tell what was weighing on his mind—but his resolve failed as he neared the house, so he sat down on the porch and watched the progress of the final preparations for their journey. He felt uneasy—very uneasy. Kent came up on the porch and took a seat—Oh, how patiently he was waiting and watching for something to happen to keep Sowers and the rest of the family from going away. He was still hoping—his hope clung to him with all the energy of hope when bordering on despair.

“Well, sir, I see you are in a fair way for going on your long journey,” said Kent to the young man.

“Yes sir, I believe we will start in a few minutes,” replied the young man.

Hugh came over to the house in company with Herbert, and they went up on the porch and took a seat beside Kent.

“Well, Kent, you are in despair now, I reckon,” whispered Hugh in Kent’s ear.

“I’ll hope for the best. It seems to me they will be impeded this time,” returned Kent in a whisper to Hugh.

“Mr. Kent, our tourists have a fine morning for starting on their journey,” asserted Herbert. “I hope they will meet with no difficulty,” added he.

“I do,” whispered Kent in Herbert’s ear.

“Yes, it would answer your purpose,” assented Herbert. “I wish you good luck in your project.”

“I want that party to come off before I leave Virginia,” said Hugh. “And I want to see some fun—such as you were speaking of, Mr. Kent. But wouldn’t it—won’t it be fun? You bet it will.”

“Hugh, you are very enthusiastic this morning,” asserted Herbert.

“I am indeed, and I wish Mr. Kent will be successful in his enterprise.”

Further conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the ladies. The ladies announced the fact that they were nearly ready—a wonderful proclamation for some ladies to make—but those ladies only said they were nearly ready—not quite.

“Bertie, tell Father and Mother good-bye for me, and tell them I will write soon,” said Ella to her brother as she took a seat near him. “Bertie, you look so sad this morning—you look as if your best friend was going away.”

“Do I, though? Well, best friend ain’t any name for it,” replied Herbert. His words had a hidden meaning, but they did not attract any attention from any of the group but Mattie—she understood what the hidden meaning was.

“What time is it, Bertie?” inquired Ella. “I don’t think it is any more than seven.” Herbert looked at his time piece.

“It is exactly seven o’clock, Sister,” said he, “and I believe Mr. Sowers is quite ready.”

He was right, for Mr. Sowers called out: “Come on and let us be starting at once.”

The ladies and gentlemen likewise went out to the carriage and bid the ladies farewell. Kent was in despair. His last hope was gone.

Sowers started off driving at a pretty lively gait. He had hardly started when, looking up, he saw a man coming down the lane on horse-back—the man was waving his handkerchief to them.

An oppressive silence reigned supreme until the stranger arrived within speaking distance. “Why, how are you all? I am so glad to see you,” said the stranger as he stoppe[d] his horse beside Sowers’ carriage.

“You have the advantage of me,” said Sowers. “I don’t know you.”