"I'm sorry, dear." Catherine hugged him. "But it's all right."
"And"—Spencer's lower lip quivered—"Daddy said why didn't I watch her if she didn't have a mother. She's got a mother, and I was just sitting there reading."
"Letty's all right now. Come, we must broil that steak! Aren't you hungry?"
Dinner was ready, all but the steak. Catherine felt that she thrust her hands violently into a patch of nettles and yanked them away, as she cajoled her family back into calm humor. Charles, carving the steak, suddenly lost his air of grave reproach, and began a story about a family with two sets of twins that he had seen on the train. With a sigh, Catherine relaxed her grip on the nettles. She might run into them, later!
"We looked for you all day yesterday," she said, finally.
"Several of the men stayed over, and I had a fine chance to talk with them. Brown of Cornell, and Davitts."
"Mr. Bill came in, Daddy, and showed me how to build a bridge."
"He thought he'd seen you Friday," said Catherine idly, "but I told him you went at one."
"Oh, yes." Charles was casual. "I missed that train. So I went around to the clinic."