At this statement, the boys looked blankly at their sisters, then at their mother, and as they searched her face, they noticed how unusually wan and frail she appeared.
“Why, Momsy, how tired you look!” exclaimed Phil.
“I am, son,—and ill. The doctor says I may,” and her voice quavered, “I may be obliged to give up my work and take a long rest.”
In shocked surprise, her sons and daughters heard her words, for, though they loved their mother dearly, with the carelessness of youth, they had failed to note the increasing look of weariness that was furrowing her face with lines.
“If Dr. Blair says you ought to take a rest, you shall,” declared Ted.
“Yet I can’t unless you and Phil are able to take my place as breadwinner, and flying and playing ball do not seem to be very reliable occupations.”
“We didn’t mean that; at least, I didn’t,” protested Phil, hastily.
“Nor I,” his brother quickly confirmed.
“Then what would you do?”
An instant Phil looked at his brother, who nodded, then replied: