“No, I don’t, Jeannie. I mean for good and all, or at least until your father has time to get well, and that can’t be done in a few days.”
“But Doctor Martin says he’s gaining every day,” Mrs. Craig said. She waited for some reassuring answer, her eyes almost begging for one, but Rebecca held her ground.
“Tom, tell what the doctor said to us this morning. Not that I take much stock in him, but he may be on the right track.”
“Nothing special,” said Mr. Craig as he smiled back at them, “only it appears that I am to be laid up in dry dock for repairs for a long time, and the sinews of war won’t stand the vacation expenses if we stay where we are now.”
“I wouldn’t try to talk about it, dear, before the children,” began Mrs. Craig, quick to avoid anything that sounded like trouble or anxiety. “We must not worry. There will be some way out of it.”
“There is,” Becky went on serenely. “I say you’d better move right out of this kind of a place where expenses are high and you can’t afford anything at all. This is a real crisis, Margaret Ann.” She spoke with more decision as she saw Jean pat her mother comfortingly. “It has got to be met with common sense. When the breadwinner can’t work and there’s a houseful of youngsters to bring up and feed and clothe, it’s time to sit up and take notice, and count all of your resources.”
“How would it do for you to take Dad up home with you for a rest, Becky?” Jean suggested, stepping into the awkward breach as she always did. “Then we could let Lydia go and manage alone. And when he came back we’d have all the moving over, and it would be the prettiest time of the year along in late August.”
Mrs. Craig’s face brightened at the suggestion.
“Or we might even renew the lease here, Tom. The house is very pleasant after all, and we could get along with it if it were all done over this spring.”
Mr. Craig looked up at Rebecca’s face helplessly, and she answered the appeal.