"You sound like Amy."
"No, I don't. I know he can't help it. You're to blame, partly. You spoiled him rotten for years. He can't get over it in a jiffy. Has that woman got her claws in him? I suppose he's wide open to a vamp."
Catherine's color receded in the swift tautening of her body. Margaret need not trample in. "I don't know," she said, stiffly.
"Excuse me, old thing." Margaret flung her arm over Catherine's shoulders, and rubbed her warm cheek against her sister's. "Rude of me, I know. We'll change the subject."
"I didn't mean to be sniffy." Catherine softened. "I really don't know. I was shocked that you——"
"Um. What are my eyes for, little Red Riding Hood? Anyway, it's a darned skilful move of yours, this trip."
Down the hall clumped Mrs. O'Lay. Catherine hurried into her old serge dress, Margaret locked and strapped the little trunk, and Catherine closed the traveling bag. "Have to finish that to-morrow."
Miss Kelly came, with Letty. Margaret carried the child off into the dining room for her supper, while Catherine sat down with Miss Kelly for a final discussion of the weeks she would be gone. "Eve made out this mailing list—" she finished, "and bought enough postal cards to last. If you would send me one every night—" She gazed at the sandy-fringed, calm blue eyes, at the firm, homely mouth. "I'm sure they will be happy and well, with you."
"I think so, Mrs. Hammond." Not a quaver of uneasiness in her voice.