"It may not be for long," answered George. "You'll come back—or probably I can go over there to see you."
"And we may be able to get into the army," said William, trying to be cheerful.
George sat down beside him. "I do wish I were leaving with you," he said, choking back the tears, "but he refused to think of sending us both. Aunt Clarissa asked him." He put his arm about his brother's shoulders. "I'm going to be sent to town to school," he added.
"I tell you what let's do," said William. "Let's draw lots, and see which one of us will go to London."
He broke a bundle of spears of grass and tore them off, some longer than others. Then he rubbed two of them in his hands.
"I don't know which it is," he said; "but if you get the shorter one, you go, and if you get the longer one, I go."
George drew at once. It was the shorter spear. So far as Uncle Nathan's preference went, it counted for nothing with his nephews.
The departure that took place the following week was an affair of the greatest moment. Although the young Frothinghams did not know it at the time, it was a long farewell they were taking of Stanham Mills.
Good-byes were said at last, and, to tell the truth, tears were shed in plenty as they parted from their sister.
The twins' belongings were packed into small boxes, then the old chaise was harnessed up, and seated beside their Uncle Daniel, and followed by Nathaniel Frothingham and Cato on horseback, they set out to make the long journey to the city. Mr. Wyeth had started the previous afternoon.