"Oh Hugh, I am real sorry you are going," said Gem suddenly, dropping her knife and fork as though the idea had only just become a reality to her. "I shall hate to see your empty chair in the morning when I come down to breakfast; I know I shall." There was an ominous tremor in Gem's voice as she spoke. "Come, little girl, no tears," said Hugh, bending to kiss his little cousin; "everybody must be cheerful or I shall not like it. And as for the chair, take it out of the room if you like, but be sure and bring it back in November when I come home again." "I'll keep it in my room, and bring it down myself the day you come home," said Gem eagerly. A little after three, Hugh tapped at Sibyl's door. "Is it you, brother? Come in," said Sibyl, and entering, Hugh sat down by the table and began to work on the half-finished bracket. They talked on many subjects, but principally on Hugh's New York life, and his plans for the future; then gradually they spoke of November, and the approaching wedding-day. "Before I go, Sibyl, I want to tell you in so many words how pleased I am to give you into Mr. Leslie's care. If I could have chosen from all the world, I know no one to whom I would more willingly have given my only sister; no one so welcome as a brother-in-law." "How glad I am that you feel so, Hugh," said Sibyl warmly. "And you yourself Sibyl; you have improved so much. It is not often that brothers and sisters express the affection they feel for each other, but you know I do not believe in such reserve, and I want you to know, dear, how thoroughly I appreciate the change in you. Leaving you, as I must, it is very pleasant to think that my one sister is growing into a noble good woman, such as our mother would have wished to have her." Sibyl threw her arms around Hugh's neck; she was much moved. In her new life and new love, her brother had become doubly dear to her, and perhaps for the first time, she realized how much she loved him. "No tears, I hope, sister," said Hugh, gently raising her head. "This is my 'good-bye' to you, dear. You know I do not like formal leave-taking. Here is your little bracket all done, but I shall bring you a better present from New York, a set of wedding pearls. You will have to wear them if I give them to you, although you are a clergyman's wife." Aunt Faith was sitting by the window in her room when she heard her nephew's step outside. "Come in!" she said; and when he entered she pointed to a chair next her own. "My dear boy, I cannot realize that you are going to leave me." "Only for a few weeks, Aunt Faith; I shall be back in November." "Not to stay, dear. No, I feel that this is our first real separation, although for years you have been absent at school and college many months at a time. You are the first to leave the old stone house,--the first bird to fly away from the nest." "I am the oldest, aunt, and therefore naturally the first to go." "That is true, but the old bird feels none the less sad."