In the early part of January the time came when George and Betty must return to Ferry Farm. George went the more cheerfully, as he imagined it would be his last visit to his mother before joining his ship. Laurence was also of this opinion, and George’s warrant as midshipman had been duly received. He had written to Madam Washington of Admiral Vernon’s offer, but he had received no letter from her in reply. This, however, he supposed was due to Madam Washington’s expectation of soon seeing George, and he thought her consent absolutely certain. On a mild January morning George and Betty left Mount Vernon for home in a two-wheeled chaise, which Laurence Washington sent as a present to his step-mother. In the box under the seat were packed Betty’s white sarcenet silk and George’s clothes, including three smart uniforms. The possession of these made George feel several years older than William Fairfax, who started for school the same day. The rapier which Lord Fairfax had given him and his midshipman’s dirk, which he considered his most valuable belongings, were rather conspicuously displayed against the side of the chaise; for George was but a boy, after all, and delighted in these evidences of his approaching manhood. His precious commission was in his breast-pocket. Billy was to travel on the trunk-rack behind the chaise, and was quite content to dangle his legs from Mount Vernon to Ferry Farm, while Rattler trotted along beside them. Usually it was a good day’s journey, but in winter, when the roads were bad, it was necessary to stop over a night on the way. It had been determined to make this stop at the home of Colonel Fielding Lewis, an old friend of both Madam Washington and Laurence Washington. All of the Mount Vernon family, white and black, were assembled on the porch, directly after breakfast, to say good-bye to the young travellers. William Fairfax, on horseback, was to start in another direction. Little Mildred, in her black mammy’s arms, was kept in the hall, away from the raw winter air. Betty kissed her a dozen times, and cried a little; but when George took her in his arms, and, after holding her silently to his breast, handed her back to her mammy, the little girl clung to him and cried so piteously that George had to unlock her baby arms from around his neck and run away. On the porch his brother and sister waited for him, and Laurence said: “I desire you, George, to deliver the chaise to your mother, from me, with my respectful compliments, and hopes that she will soon make use of it to visit us at Mount Vernon. For yourself, let me hear from you by the first hand. The _Bellona_ will be in the Chesapeake within a month, and probably up this river, and you are now prepared to join at a moment’s notice.”