He stopped, and was conscious of a blush.  There was silence for a moment, and then Washington—­now a lank, dreamy-eyed stripling between twenty-two and twenty-three years of age—­said: 

“If Col.  Sellers would come for me, I would go and stay with him a while, till the Tennessee land is sold.  He has often wanted me to come, ever since he moved to Hawkeye.”

“I’m afraid he can’t well come for you, Washington.  From what I can hear—­not from him of course, but from others—­he is not far from as bad off as we are—­and his family is as large, too.  He might find something for you to do, maybe, but you’d better try to get to him yourself, Washington—­it’s only thirty miles.”

“But how can I, father?  There’s no stage or anything.”

“And if there were, stages require money.  A stage goes from Swansea, five miles from here.  But it would be cheaper to walk.”

“Father, they must know you there, and no doubt they would credit you in a moment, for a little stage ride like that.  Couldn’t you write and ask them?”

“Couldn’t you, Washington—­seeing it’s you that wants the ride?  And what do you think you’ll do, Washington, when you get to Hawkeye?  Finish your invention for making window-glass opaque?”

“No, sir, I have given that up.  I almost knew I could do it, but it was so tedious and troublesome I quit it.”

“I was afraid of it, my boy.  Then I suppose you’ll finish your plan of coloring hen’s eggs by feeding a peculiar diet to the hen?”

“No, sir.  I believe I have found out the stuff that will do it, but it kills the hen; so I have dropped that for the present, though I can take it up again some day when I learn how to manage the mixture better.”

“Well, what have you got on hand—­anything?”

“Yes, sir, three or four things.  I think they are all good and can all be done, but they are tiresome, and besides they require money.  But as soon as the land is sold——­”

“Emily, were you about to say something?” said Hawkins.

Yes, sir.  If you are willing, I will go to St. Louis.  That will make another mouth less to feed.  Mrs. Buckner has always wanted me to come.”

“But the money, child?”

“Why I think she would send it, if you would write her—­and I know she would wait for her pay till——­”

“Come, Laura, let’s hear from you, my girl.”

Emily and Laura were about the same age—­between seventeen and eighteen.  Emily was fair and pretty, girlish and diffident—­blue eyes and light hair.  Laura had a proud bearing, and a somewhat mature look; she had fine, clean-cut features, her complexion was pure white and contrasted vividly with her black hair and eyes; she was not what one calls pretty —­she was beautiful.  She said: 

“I will go to St. Louis, too, sir.  I will find a way to get there.  I will make a way.  And I will find a way to help myself along, and do what I can to help the rest, too.”