Jack was to go to Boston to school this winter. Neal was going back to boarding-school; it was his last year, and next autumn he hoped to begin college life.
One fine day towards the end of the summer Cynthia and Neal walked out over the pasture to the "far meadow," and sat down in the shade of a huge hay-stack. The air was full of the hum of fall insects, and grasshoppers alighted here, there, and everywhere about them. Neal tried in vain to catch one with his hat. Then he tossed it to one side, and clasping his hands behind his head, leaned back against the hay with a heavy sigh.
"'What is the matter?" asked Cynthia. "I should think you had the weight of the world on your shoulders."
"And so I have. I've a good mind to trot out the whole story to you, Cynth. I wonder if it would do any good?"
"Of course it would," replied Cynthia, promptly. "There is nothing like talking a thing over, and, besides, I've wanted dreadfully to know what has been the matter with you."
"How did you know anything was?"
"I have seen you growing glummer and glummer. You haven't been nearly as jolly lately. And when you got that letter this morning you looked as if you would like to punch somebody."
"You do take in a lot! I never supposed anybody would notice. I wonder if Hessie did?"
"I saw her looking at you."
"I wish she'd look to some purpose, and hand out what I want. She's so taken up with you Franklins nowadays."