"Is she sick?" Charles looked aggrieved at this intrusion upon his mood.
"I hope not." Catherine gave him a little push. "Call her up, and see when she can come in. I'll have dinner on directly."
The wild animals were washed and combed, and dinner served when Charles came out of the study.
"She's not in. Probably at dinner. I left word with the clerk. But I say, Catherine. I got tickets for 'Liliom' to-night." He looked blankly disappointed. "You said you wanted to see it, and I was downtown. Good seats, too."
"Oh, Charles!"
"And I even called up that girl we had last year, to stay with the children. That graduate student, you know."
"Well." Catherine lifted her hands in a little gesture of resignation. "If Letty's sick— But 'Liliom'! I do want to go."
"Maybe she'll be all right when she's asleep."
But she wasn't. Eight o'clock came, with Charles fidgeting like a lamprey eel on a hook, and no word from Henrietta. Letty was asleep, her hands twitching restlessly. Catherine shook her head, as she read the thermometer.
"I can't go, Charles. Almost a hundred and one."