"Now, mother, I can leave home without any anxiety," he said.
"You will write me often, Grit?" said Mrs. Brandon anxiously.
"Oh, yes, mother; there is no danger I shall forget that."
"Your letters will be all I shall have to think of, you know, Grit."
"I won't forget it, mother."
Grit kissed his mother good-by, and bent his steps toward the railway station.
On the way he met Ephraim Carver.
"Where are you going, Grit?" asked the bank messenger.
"I am going to Boston."