He picked up a small black book which his eye had caught lying beside the Bible on Mrs. Wright's table.
"Oh!" he said, raising his eyebrows and looking at her with a smile.
"Do you know it?" she asked.
"My mother lives by it," he returned.
"Then her boy does, I'm sure," said Mrs. Wright.
"He tries to," answered Phil. "I was just thinking now of our philosophy, and trying to know that, if it's right for me to stay on this island, it will come to pass. I feel as if I could do a lot of work here."
"Mrs. Fabian will have too much of a houseful?"
"Perhaps not; but there couldn't be any independence in that; and I couldn't bring paint rags into her spick-and-span cottage."
"Take board here," suggested Mrs. Wright.
Phil shook his head. "I don't want to give the price for a long pull. Miss Manning prophesied that I should live under a rock rather than leave. I'll go rock-hunting some day."