They were all trying to kiss him at once, and Tommy held one of his thin white hands in his strong ones. It did not require the look in their mother’s eyes to warn them about being careful. Slender and tall, she stood behind him smiling at them all.
“Why, he doesn’t look nearly so bad as I expected,” Rebecca told her, kissing her in a motherly way. Somehow it seemed quite natural for all to pet and comfort Mom. It had been the same when their father had been in the service; now, more than ever, when the past three months had shown them the possibilities of trouble and sorrow.
“You mustn’t tire him, girls,” she told them. “Tommy, help your father upstairs.” He and Becky between them helped Mr. Craig go up, one step at a time, then a rest before the next. “He must have a chance to recover from the trip.”
“Land,” Rebecca called back, “I’m so relieved that you didn’t have to bring him back on a stretcher I can hardly catch my breath.”
“I’m hopeful since he stood the trip so well,” answered Mrs. Craig. She leaned her head against the back of the big, cushioned chair. Jean slipped off her coat and Doris took her gloves. Tommy came downstairs and put a fresh log on the fire and Kit hurried out to the kitchen after a cup of tea. They all hovered over her, each eager to make her comfortable. Then suddenly, unable to hold back any longer, she burst into tears. Jean rushed to her side and pulled her close into her arms.
“Mother darling,” she begged. “Don’t, don’t cry so. Why, you’re home, and we’re all going to look after him, and help you as much as we can.”
Doris raced out of the room and up the stairs after Rebecca, and presently she came bustling downstairs, flushed and efficient.
“Why, Margaret Ann,” she cried, smoothing back her hair just as if she had been one of the children. “Don’t give way just when your strength is needed most.”
“Please call me Margie,” protested Mrs. Craig, smiling a little. “It sounds so formal for you to call me Margaret Ann. It always makes me feel like squaring my shoulders, Becky.”
“So you should, child,” Rebecca declared cheerily. “Margie’s so sort of gay to my way of thinking and there’s stability to Margaret Ann. Lord knows, you’re going to need a lot of stability before you find the way out of this.”