for an
indefinite period. Charley Gray obtained permission to spend this last
night with me, and we lay awake for hours talking over our numerous
plans for the future in true school-boy fashion. Many an air-castle did
we rear that night which the lapse of years have laid in the dust. In
our boyish plans of future greatness, I was not exactly sure what I was
to be, only I was to be a wonderfully great man of some kind, while
Charley was, of course, to become a very eminent physician, such as
should not be found upon any past record; and we talked, too, of the
wonder we should excite among our old friends when we might chance to
revisit the scenes of our early home. We even spoke of driving past the
farm of Mr. Judson in a fine carriage drawn by a pair of beautiful bay
horses; but with all our lively talk poor Charley was sadly out of
spirits. His old bosom foe was at work; he feared that among new
companions I might meet with some one who would supplant him in my
affections. To one of my nature, this jealous exclusive disposition was
something incomprehensible; later in life I learned to pity him for a
defect of character, which in his case was hereditary, and which he
could no more help than the drawing of his life-breath. I was to leave
Elmwood by the early morning train so we were up betimes; but, early as
it was, we found my mother already up and breakfast awaiting us. The
railway station was a little beyond the village, and more than a mile
from our dwelling. Dr. Gray sent over the horse and carriage very early,
and Charley, with my mother and Flora, was to accompany me to the
depot. The morning air was fresh and invigorating, and under other
circumstances we should highly have enjoyed the drive, as it was that
morning, we were rather a sad and silent party. When we arrived at the
station I moved rapidly about and looked after my luggage with far more
care than was necessary, in order to conceal the sorrow I felt at
leaving home; and I was heartily glad to hear the whistle which
announced the approaching train, that the parting might be the sooner
over. During the few moments we stood upon the platform awaiting the
arrival of the train Charley stood by with the most solemn face
imaginable. His countenance was always remarkably expressive of either
joy or sorrow, and at this time his expression was certainly not one of
joy. Many a time since, have I smiled as memory suddenly recalled the
woe-begone face of Charley Gr