once:

"I'm going to try it, Emily." I dropped hemming and thinking together,
and said:

"Try what?"

"Try my luck."

I was only bewildered by his answer, and he continued:

"Emily, I'm determined to carry out the desires of my life, and now I am
intent on a Western city as the place best calculated to inspire me with
the courage and strength I need to carry out my aims and purposes, and
I thought I'd tell you now that I feel decided, and you will tell mother
for me; will you?"

Never before in my life had I felt Hal so near to me. His manner toward
me had changed, of course, as he grew into manhood, and "Emily, will you
sew on this button?" or "Emily, are my stockings ready?" were given in
place of "Emily did it," but now, as he looked full in my face, and even
passed his arm about me with true brotherly affection, he seemed so
near, that the hot tears chased each other down my cheeks, and I sat
speechless with the feelings that overcame me. I thought of the handsome
face--always handsome in whatever mood--opposite me at the table, of the
manly form and dignified carriage I had watched with pride, and when I
could speak, I said,

"Hal I cannot let you go." Hal was brave, but I knew he felt what I
said, for his looks spoke volumes as he said,

"Shall you miss me so much?"

"Oh! Hal," I cried, "we love you, mother and I, I never knew how much
till now." His head dropped a moment, and then he suddenly said,

"You are the best sister a fellow ever had," and swallowing something
that rose in his throat, marched off through the fields directly away
from the house. I gathered up my work and scrap book, went in and
prepared the supper, showing outwardly no emotion, but with my heart
throbbing as if it would tell the secret on which I pondered, while I
wondered how I should tell my mother.

Hal came in late to supper. I rushed from the table when I heard his
footsteps, and sought my room until I heard him coming up to his room,
when I went down stairs and busied myself with my work as usual.

I washed the milk pans three or four times over that night, and was
about carrying them into the "best room," when mother said,

"Why, Emily, we keep our milk pans in the buttery."

"Oh!" I said, turning suddenly and letting my pans fall and scatter. And
when I picked them up and collected my senses, I thought, "I cannot tell
mother to-night after all, Hal will stay with us." When things were at
last in their places, I sa