When Grit went home and read the letter to his mother, it was a shock to the good woman.
"How can I part from you, Grit?" she said, with a troubled look.
"It won't be for long, mother," said Grit hopefully. "I shall soon be able to send for you, and we can settle down somewhere near Boston. I've got tired of this place, haven't you?"
"No, Grit. I think Pine Point is very pleasant, as long as I can keep you with me. When you are gone, of course, it will seem very different. I don't see how I am going to stand it."
"It won't be for long, mother; and you'll know I am doing well."
"You can make a living with your boat, Grit."
"Yes, mother; but it isn't going to lead to anything. It's all very well now, but half a dozen years from now I ought to be established in some good business."
"Can't you put off going for a year, Grit?"
"A year hence there may be no such chance as this, mother."