"Oh, Lucian, what a help you are. At first I thought there was no one who could go. I will go down town at once and get a draft for you and meet you at the station; that will be better than stopping here on your way from Cambridge." These hasty plans were carried out exactly. "Everything is so hurried," complained Martine, "that I haven't had time yet to cry." "I have cabled to Rio Janeiro," said Mrs. Stratford, "to cable our bankers in London, if--if--anything happens." "Oh, nothing will happen," said Lucian cheerfully, "nothing serious, I mean. Only I am sure that it is wise for me to go, for father will need me to help him come home. And now good-bye." So mother and daughter parted with Lucian, and after this one exciting day, things settled down into their accustomed round. Within a week of Lucian's sailing Mrs. Stratford heard by cable that her husband was no worse. "It does not say 'better'," she murmured. "But 'no worse' is better than nothing," said Martine. "When we consider how little Lucian was here with us, it is strange," said Martine one day, "that we should miss him so. Poor boy, I am sorry that I teased him so about his finals. I am sure that he would rather be in Cambridge working for dear life than tossing about on the ocean, not knowing what news he may hear at the end of his journey. But there's one thing, he rose to the occasion, and I'm so thankful that he has really grown up." In spite of the anxiety of mother and daughter, each for the sake of the other tried to be cheerful. Martine, until the first of June, was fully occupied with school. Priscilla and her more intimate friends sympathized deeply with her when they heard of her father's illness. Letters from others came to them gradually, and some of Mr. Stratford's business associates were frank with Mrs. Stratford when she asked their opinion on her husband's affairs. One day she called Martine to her for a frank talk. "It is evident," she said, "that we must live at the very smallest possible expense for the next few months. I am going to send the cook away at the end of the present week; now that your school is ending, you will not object to supplementing Angelina's work. Angelina sees something dramatic in what she calls 'our fallen fortunes.' She is delighted to be considered housemaid and cook combined. She tells me that I am not to lift my hand, but wear my prettiest dresses all the time so that there'll be one lady in the house, while you and she are doing the work." "Well, really," cried Martine, "it's a little too much for her to put me immediately on her own level." "Oh, she doesn't mean it in that way; in fact, what she said was intended only to make me comfortable. If I were a little stronger I would plan to stay in Boston all summer, but I've had a talk with the doctor and he tells me that I need a complete change. We cannot afford any extravagance this summer, and only one plan suggests itself to me." "What is it, mamma?"