A VIRGINIA CAVALIER.[1]
BY MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
CHAPTER IV.
efore daybreak the next morning George came down stairs, Billy following with his portmanteau. Madam Washington, little Betty, and all the house-servants were up and dressed, but it was thought best not to waken the three little boys, who slept on comfortably in their trundle-beds. The candles were lighted, and for the last time for two months—which seems long to the young—George had family prayers. His mother then took the book from him and read the prayers for travellers about to start on a journey. She was quite composed, for no woman ever surpassed Madam Washington in self-control; but little Betty still wept, and would not leave George's side even while he ate his breakfast. There had been some talk of Betty's going to Mount Vernon also for Christmas; and George, remembering this, asked his mother, as a last favor, that she would let Betty meet him there, whence he could bring her home. Madam Washington agreed, and this quickly dried Betty's tears. Billy acted in a mysterious manner. Instead of being in vociferous distress, he was quiet, and even cheerful—so much so that a grin discovered itself on his countenance, which was promptly banished as soon as he saw Madam Washington's clear stern eyes travelling his way. George, feeling for poor Billy's loneliness, had determined to leave Rattler behind for company; but both Billy and Rattler were to cross the ferry with him, the one to bring the horse back, and the other for a last glimpse of his master.
The parting was not so mournful, therefore, as it promised to be. George went into the chamber where his three little brothers slept, who were not wide awake enough to feel much regret at his departure. The servants all came out, and he shook the hand of each, especially Uncle Jasper's, while Aunt Sukey embraced him. His mother kissed him and solemnly blessed him, and the procession started. George mounted his own horse, while Betty, seated pillion-wise behind him, was to ride with him to the ferry. Uncle Jasper and Aunt Sukey walked as far as the gate; and Billy, with Rattler at his heels and the portmanteau on his head, started off on a brisk run down the road.
"And it won't be long until Christmas," said George, turning in his saddle and pressing Betty's arm that was around him, as they galloped along briskly; "and if I have a chance of sending a letter, I will write you one. Think, Betty, you will have a letter all to yourself! You have never had one, I know."
"I never had a letter all to myself," answered Betty. For that was before the days of cheap postage, or postage at all as it is now, and letters were precious treasures.
"And it will be very fine at Mount Vernon—ladies, and even girls like you, wearing hoops, and dancing minuets every evening, while Black Tubal and Squirrel Tom play their fiddles."