“But it is not for pleasure that I let you go,” replied his mother, who, according to the spirit of the age, referred everything to duty. “’Tis because I think my Lord Fairfax’s company will be of benefit to you; and as there is but little prospect of a school here this winter, and I have made no arrangements for a tutor, I must do something for your education, but that I cannot do until after Christmas. So, as I think you will be learning something of men as well as of books, I have thought it best, after reflecting upon it as well as I can, to let you go.” “I will promise you, mother, never to do or say anything while I am away from you that I would be ashamed for you to know,” cried George. Madam Washington smiled at this. “Your promise is too extensive,” she said. “Promise me only that you will _try_ not to do or say anything that will make me ashamed, and that will be enough.” George colored, as he answered: “I dare say I promised too much, and so I will accept the change you make.” Here a wild howl burst upon the air. Billy, who had been standing behind George’s chair, understood well enough what the conversation meant, and that he was to be separated until after Christmas from his beloved “Marse George.” Madam Washington, who had little patience with such outbreaks of emotion, sharply spoke to him. “Be quiet, Billy!” Billy’s reply was a fresh burst of tears and wailing, which brought home to little Betty that George was about to leave them, and caused her to dissolve into tears and sobs, while Rattler, running about the room, and looking from one to the other, began to bark furiously. Madam Washington, standing up, calm, but excessively annoyed at this commotion in her quiet house, brought her foot down with a light tap, which, however, meant volumes. Uncle Jasper too appeared, and was about to haul Billy off to condign punishment when George intervened. “Hold your tongue, Billy,” he said; and Billy, digging his knuckles into his eyes, subsided as quietly as he had broken forth. “Now go up to my room and take the dog, and stay there until I come,” continued George. Billy obeyed promptly. Betty, however, having once let loose the floodgates, hung around George’s neck and wept oceans of tears. George soothed her as best he could, but Betty would not be comforted, and was more distressed than ever when, in a little while, a note arrived from Lord Fairfax, saying he would leave Fredericksburg the next morning at sunrise if it would be convenient to Mr. Washington to join him then. CHAPTER IV