Margaret telephoned for a taxi, and then hung over the children, offering impossible suggestions, until the hall boy announced her cab.
Marian wanted to go down to the Drive, to jump. Catherine waved good-by to Margaret, her other hand restrainingly on Marian's shoulder.
"Not Sunday afternoon, Marian. There are so many people down there, you'd jump right on their toes. You watch Spencer."
The children played in reasonable quiet. Catherine finished her darning, her mind playing with the idea of the graphs she was working on. As she rolled up the last stocking, she wondered what she used to think about, as she sat darning or sewing. Nothing, she decided. Plain nothing. I could let my hands work, and my ears listen for the children, and the rest of me just stagnate.
She delayed supper a little, hoping that Charles might come. She wasn't sure about the Sunday trains. Finally she gave the children their supper and put Letty to bed.
Spencer was still engrossed in the construction of a building when Bill Gilbert came in.
"Henrietta isn't here?"
"No, but do come in." Catherine led him into the living room. "Is Henry coming?"
"She had a call, and said she'd stop here on her way home."
"Charles hasn't come yet. He's been in Washington since Friday."