I smiled.
"And I do believe, by common patience and skill, a man might make his fortune with it at those Enderley cloth-mills."
"Suppose you try!" I said in half jest, and was surprised to see how seriously John took it.
"I wish I could try—if it were only practicable. Once or twice I have thought it might be. The mill belongs to Lord Luxmore. His steward works it. Now, if one could get to be a foreman or overseer—"
"Try—you can do anything you try."
"No, I must not think of it—she and I have agreed that I must not," said he, steadily. "It's my weakness—my hobby, you know. But—no hobbies now. Above all, I must not, for a mere fancy, give up the work that lies under my hand. What of the tan-yard, Phineas?"
"My father missed you, and grumbled after you a good deal. He looks anxious, I think. He vexes himself more than he needs about business."
"Don't let him. Keep him as much at home as you can. I'll manage the tan-yard: you know—and he knows too—that everything which can be done for us all I shall do."
I looked up, surprised at the extreme earnestness of his manner.
"Surely, John—"