He remembered Blair Maynard's bitter prophecy, which he had been unable to accept.
"Anyway, Daren, are you able to work ?" asked his mother.
"Sure," he replied, lying cheerfully, with a smile on his face.

"Not hard work, just yet, but I can do something." His mother did not share his enthusiasm.

She went on preparing the supper.
"How do you manage to get along ?" inquired Lane.
"Lord only knows," she replied, sombrely.

"It has been very hard.

When you left home I had only the interest on your father's life insurance.
I sold the farm--" "Oh, no!" exclaimed Lane, with a rush of boyhood memories.
"I had to," she went on.