to goodness I could
throw it over. By the way, I suppose you know my brother's coming home
from Yale to-morrow. It's almost two years since I've seen him except
for a week or two. I guess he'll have changed some; his letters sound
so, anyway."

"That's just what I came down to ask you about. I heard it yesterday
and I'd be awfully glad if you two would come up to supper day after
to-morrow--that's Sunday. I'm so anxious to see him because I know
he'll have lots to tell us about college and the city and things like
that. Oh, David, I get tired too of always staying here in the country
and teaching school forever, when there are so many things to learn
and so much to see off there in the world. That's what Loren can tell
us about. It'll be next best to getting off somewhere one's self."

During the course of the conversation the streak of white in the west
had turned to gray and the night was rapidly closing down. The girl
jumped to the ground; "Good-night," she said, as she started away,
"I'll see you both Sunday,--sure, now!"

David picked up his milk-pails and completed the work of the day. A
little later he had seated himself on the porch. He felt discontented
and unhappy though he could not have told exactly why. But one thing
was evident--he was not anticipating Loren's home-coming with much
pleasure. He felt, in fact, a certain reluctance, or rather timidity,
about meeting this younger brother of his who knew so much and talked
so much, and seemed to enjoy himself so thoroughly. He anticipated
keenly the difference that two years must have brought between them,
and dreaded the time when they should be put side by side once more
and compared. For David, too--the older of the boys by a year--had
expected to go to college and till the time came had never doubted the
expediency of it. But, as is so often the case, that merry-making
force in human affairs that we call Circumstance--or is it
Providence?--had it fixed up otherwise. Mr. Waring had suddenly
lighted upon chronic poor health as a daily companion on the walk of
life, and his time was so much engrossed therewith that David seemed
called upon--nay, impelled--to become the main-stay of the farm; Loren
was still too young; financial affairs were far from encouraging; Mrs.
Waring looked constantly to her older son for advice and assistance;
in short, the golden gate of the future seemed to be drawing to,
without any voluntary effort of his own. Yet he had often