"Yes. It is about an hour's sail from New York, or nearly; across the bay. You can become acquainted with the famous bay of New York."
"Is it famous?"
"For its beauty."
"Oh I should like to go very much, Mr. Digby, if it was as ugly as it could be!"
"Then when your mother comes from the Park in the morning, we will go."
Rotha was full of delight. But her mother, she thought, was very sober during that morning's drive; she tried in vain to brighten her up. Again and again Mrs. Carpenter's eyes rested on her with a lingering, tender sorrowfulness, which was not their wont.
"Mother, is anything the matter?" she asked at length.
"I am thinking of you, my child."
"Then don't think of me! What about me?"
"I am grieved that a shadow should ever come over your gay spirits. Yet I am foolish."