"No, there is no other mill; and if there were, I shouldn't want to take it. I'm too old to begin life over again in the place where I started when I was a boy to work my way up. I have worked, too,—worked hard,—and now I come out in the end not worth a cent. No, Eyebright, I couldn't do it!"
He set her down as he spoke, and began to walk the room with heavy, unequal steps. The old floor creaked under his tread. There was something very sad in the sound.
A child feels powerless in the presence of sudden misfortune. Eyebright sat as if stunned, while her father walked to and fro. Genevieve slipped from her lap and fell with a bump on the carpet, but she paid no attention. Genevieve wasn't real to her just then; only a doll. It was no matter whether she bumped her head or not.
Mr. Bright came back to his chair again.
"I'll tell you what I've been thinking of," he said. "I own a little farm up in Maine. It's about the only thing I do own which hasn't got a mortgage on it, or doesn't belong to some one else in one way or another. It's a very small farm, but there's a house on it,—some kind of a house,—and I think of moving up there to live. I don't know much about the place, and I don't like the plan. It'll be lonely for you, for the farm is on an island, it seems, and there's no one else living there, no children for you to play with, and no school. These are disadvantages; but, on the other hand, the climate is said to be good, and I suppose I can raise enough up there for our living, and not run into debt, which is the thing I care most for just now. So I've about decided to try it. I'm sorry to break up your schooling, and to take you away from here, where you like it so much; but it seems the only way open. And if you could go cheerfully, my dear, and make the best of things, it would be a great comfort to me. That's all I've got to say."
Eyebright's mind had been at work through this long sentence. Her reply astonished her father not a little, it was so bright and eager.
"What is the island in, papa? A lake?"
"No, not a lake. It's in the sea, but very near the coast. I think there's some way of walking across at low tide, but I'm not sure."
"I think—I'm rather glad," said Eyebright slowly. "I always did want to live on an island and I never saw the sea. Don't feel badly, papa, I guess we shall like it."
Mr. Bright was relieved; but he couldn't help shaking his head a little, nevertheless.