Mrs. Dering put her hand to her head, bewildered with the sudden news, and Olive saw, and comprehended the look of startled trouble that rested on her face.
"We are very poor now, aren't we, mama?"
"Yes, child, yes; indeed I am quite bewildered," exclaimed Mrs. Dering, anxiously. "Did you say sixty days, Olive?"
"Yes, mama, the time is out next Friday."
"Is it possible? What shall we do!"
"Isn't letting it go, the only thing we can do?" asked Olive.
"I suppose so, but really I can hardly think, it all seems so sudden," and truly her sad, troubled face echoed her words.
"I have been thinking about it so long," said Olive, as though relieved to speak her thoughts. "The home is ours, and you have four thousand in the bank. It seems to me a very little for seven people to live on, but we are all strong and well, and can work."
"Yes, all strong and well but Jean," and Mrs. Dering's eyes went wistfully to the little unconscious face resting on the pillow. "She will have to be so neglected in more ways than one, if home is broken up and every one's hands and work belonging to some one else."
"Dear me," cried Olive, reproachfully. "How could I forget her! There's something more to think over, now."