go at all.

When Philip had done his hour's work, he went in to his employer's
office to say good-bye.

"Tut, tut," said Mr. Faringfield, looking annoyed at the interruption,
"there's no occasion for goodbyes. But look you, lad. I don't mind
your taking the day off, to put yourself into a reasonable state of
mind. Go home, and enjoy a holiday, and come back to your work
to-morrow, fresh and cheerful. Now, now, boy, I won't hear any more.
Only do as I bid you." And he assumed a chilling reserve that indeed
froze all further possible discussion.

"But I do say good-bye, sir, and mean it," said Phil, tremulously.
"And I thank you from my heart for all you've done for me."

And so, with a lump in his throat, Phil hastened home, and sped up the
stairs unseen, like a ghost; and had all his things out on his bed for
packing, when suddenly Madge, who had been astonished to hear him
moving about, from her mother's room below, flung open his door and
looked in upon him, all amazed.

"Why, Phil, what are you doing home at this hour? What are you putting
your things into your valise for?"

"Oh, nothing," said Phil, very downcast.

"Why, it looks as if--you were going away somewhere."

Phil made a brief answer; and then there was a long talk, all the