_ CHAPTER XXIV
Autumn again came, with its many-hued glories, and I must bid adieu to the uncle and aunt who had been so kind to me for the two past years. Looking forward two years seem a long period; but, as memory recalled the evening of my first arrival at Uncle Nathan's, I could hardly believe that two years had since then glided away. I had bid my kind teacher and his family good-bye, and in the morning was to set out on my homeward journey. I accompanied my uncle and aunt to grandma's grave--a handsome head-stone of white marble had been erected, and I enjoyed a melancholy pleasure in reading over and over again the sculptured letters, stating her name and age, with the date of her death. Eighty-five years, thought I, as my eye rested upon the figures indicating her age, what a long, long life! and yet she often said that, in looking back over her long life, it only seemed like a short troubled dream; but it is all past now, and she rests in peace. We sat long at the grave and talked of the loved one, now sleeping beneath that grassy mound; till the deepening twilight hastened our departure. I could not check the tears which coursed freely down my cheeks when I turned away from the grave. Seated around the fireside that evening we talked of the coming morrow when I was to leave them for an indefinite time, and they both spoke of how doubly lonely the house would seem when I should be gone. It hardly seemed to me that the aunt I was leaving was the same I had found there, so softened and kind had she become. "It's not my way," said she, "to make many words; you have been a good, obedient boy Walter, and I am sorry, that you must leave us, but we could not expect to keep you always. Always do as you have done here, and you will get along, go where you will; always look upon this house as a home, and if you ever stand in need of a friend remember you have an Aunt Lucinda, who, if she does fret and scold sometimes, has learned to love you very dearly, and that is all I am going to say about it." It was well that she had no wish to say more, for her voice grew tremulous before she had finished; and these few words more than repaid me for the endeavours I had made to please her during my stay with them. "My boy," said Uncle Nathan, "you are now leaving us. I am not going to spoil you, by giving you money, for if you wish to ruin a boy there is no surer way than by giving him plenty of money; and I want to make a man of you, and have you learn to depend on yourself and save your money: so at present I only intend giving you enough money to bear the expenses of your journey home, and buy any clothing you may require before going to a situation; but I have deposited a sum of money, to remain on interest for six years; if your life is spared, you will then be twenty-one years of age, and if you make good use of your time, may save something yourself. I will not say how large a sum I have deposited, but at any rate it will help you along a little, if you should wish to go into business for yourself at that time; and now you had best go to bed and sleep soundly, for you must be up bright and early in the morning."
The good-byes were all said, and I was seated in the train which was to convey me from Fulton. As the train passed out of the village I rose from my seat to obtain a last look at the Academy whose white walls shone through the trees which surrounded it. I suppose if the Widow Green had been there she would at once have said I would never see the Academy again, it being a saying of hers, "that to watch a place out of sight was a sure sign we would never behold it again." I certainly tested her saying upon this occasion, for I gazed upon the dear old Academy till it faded in the distance from my sight, and since then I have both seen and entered it. When my mother met me at the depot at Elmwood, I could hardly believe the tall girl who accompanied her was my sister, Flora, so much had she grown during the past year. I did not expect to meet Charley Gray, as the holidays were all over long ago, but the good Doctor and his wife were kind and friendly, indeed they had ever been so to me. "Charley went away in the sulks because you failed to come home during the holidays," said the Doctor with a good-humoured laugh, "but a fit of the sulks is no very uncommon thing for him;" and then he added, while a grave expression rested for a moment upon his face, "poor Charley I hope he will get rid of that unhappy temper of his as he grows older, if not it will destroy his happiness for life." "I am sure," replied I, "that Charley could not have been more anxious about it than I was myself, but I could not leave Uncle Nathan till the fall." "So I told him," said the Doctor, "but would you believe it, the fellow for a while persisted in saying, you knew he was at home, and so stayed away purposely, till he finally became ashamed of himself and owned that he did not really think so, and only said it because he was provoked by your not coming home; you see he is the same unreasonable Charley that he ever was, but it is to be hoped he will in time, become wiser."
I was glad to find myself again at home; much as I might love another place, Elmwood was my home. My favorite tree in the garden looked doubly beautiful, clothed as it was with deep green, while the foliage had long since been stripped from those surrounding it by the frosts and winds of November. _