But sending a half-sick boy away is not such an easy thing, nor was it quite clear where he ought to go.  So matters drifted along for another month, and then Phil settled the question for himself by having a slight hemorrhage.  It was evident that something must be done, and speedily—­but what?  Dr. Carr wrote to various medical acquaintances, and in reply pamphlets and letters poured in, each designed to prove that the particular part of the country to which the pamphlet or the letter referred was the only one to which it was at all worth while to consign an invalid with delicate lungs.  One recommended Florida, another Georgia, a third South Carolina; a fourth and fifth recommended cold instead of heat, and an open air life with the mercury at zero.  It was hard to decide what was best.

“He ought not to go off alone either,” said the puzzled father.  “He is neither old enough nor wise enough to manage by himself, but who to send with him is the puzzle.  It doubles the expense, too.”

“Perhaps I—­” began Katy, but her father cut her short with a gesture.

“No, Katy, I couldn’t permit that.  Your husband is due in a few weeks now.  You must be free to go to him wherever he is, not hampered with the care of a sick brother.  Besides, whoever takes charge of Phil must be prepared for a long absence,—­at least a year.  It must be either Clover or myself; and as it seems out of the question that I shall drop my practice for a year, Clover is the person.”

“Phil is seventeen now,” suggested Katy.  “That is not so very young.”

“No, not if he were in full health.  Plenty of boys no older than he have gone out West by themselves, and fared perfectly well.  But in Phil’s condition that would never answer.  He has a tendency to be low-spirited about himself too, and he needs incessant care and watchfulness.”

“Out West,” repeated Katy.  “Have you decided, then?”

“Yes.  The letter I had yesterday from Hope, makes me pretty sure that St. Helen’s is the best place we have heard of.”

“St. Helen’s!  Where is that?”

“It is one of the new health-resorts in Colorado which has lately come into notice for consumptives.  It’s very high up; nearly or quite six thousand feet, and the air is said to be something remarkable.”

“Clover will manage beautifully, I think; she is such a sensible little thing,” said Katy.

“She seems to me, and he too, about as fit to go off two thousand miles by themselves as the Babes in the Wood,” remarked Dr. Carr, who, like many other fathers, found it hard to realize that his children had outgrown their childhood.  “However, there’s no help for it.  If I don’t stay and grind away at the mill, there is no one to pay for this long journey.  Clover will have to do her best.”

“And a very good best it will be you’ll see,” said Katy, consolingly.  “Does Dr. Hope tell you anything about the place?” she added, turning over the letter which her father had handed her.