“I hope you are not feeling any worse, Mr. Melville,” said Herbert, with genuine concern, for he had come to feel a regard for his employer, who was always kind and considerate to him. “No, I am feeling as well as usual; but I wish to consult Dr. Davies about the coming winter--whether he would advise me to spend it in Massachusetts.” “If Mr. Melville goes away, I shall have to look for another place,” thought Herbert, soberly. It was hardly likely, he knew, that he would obtain a position so desirable as the one he now filled. “I hope he will be able to do so, Mr. Melville,” he said, earnestly. “I hope so; but I shall not be surprised if the doctor ordered me away.” “Then you won't want me to come to-morrow?” “Certainly, unless you object to going to Boston with me.” “Object?” repeated Herbert, eagerly. “I should like nothing better.” In fact, our hero, though a well-grown boy of sixteen, had never been to Boston but three times, and the trip, commonplace as it may seem to my traveled young readers, promised him a large amount of novelty and pleasurable excitement. “I shall be glad of your company, Herbert. I hardly feel the strength or enterprise to travel alone, even for so trifling a trip as going to Boston.” “At what hour will you go, Mr. Melville?” “I will take the second train, at nine o'clock. It will afford me time enough, and save my getting up before my usual time.” Herbert would have preferred going by the first train, starting at half-past seven, as it would have given him a longer day in the city, but of course he felt that his employer had decided wisely. “It will be quite a treat to me, going to Boston,” he said. “I have only been there three times in my life.” “You certainly have not been much of a traveler, Herbert,” said George Melville, smiling. “However, you are young, and you may see a good deal of the world yet before you die.” “I hope I will. It must be delightful to travel.” “Yes, when you are young and strong,” said Melville, thoughtfully. “That makes a great deal of difference in the enjoyment.” Herbert did not fail to put in an appearance at the hotel considerably before it was time to leave for the train. George Melville smiled at his punctuality. “I wish, Herbert,” he said, “that I could look forward with as much pleasure as you feel to our trip to-day.” “I wish so, too, Mr. Melville.” “At any rate, I shall enjoy it better for having a companion.” The tickets were bought, and they took their places in one of the passenger cars. Just as the train was ready to start, Herbert saw a young man with a ticket in his hand hurrying along the platform. “Why, there's Eben Graham!” he said, in surprise. “Is he entering the cars?” “Yes, he has just got into the car behind us.” “I wonder if he is going to leave Wayneboro for good?” “Probably he is only going to Boston for the day, perhaps to buy goods.”