Charles, in answer to a query from Bill, had started a long and eager explanation of an industrial test he had been working up.
Catherine noticed that even as Miss Partridge answered Henrietta's question, her eyes had turned to Charles and Bill. "Is your husband a doctor, too?" she finished.
"Heavens, no! Bill couldn't be anything so personal as a doctor." Henrietta laughed. "Could he, Catherine? He's an engineer."
And presently, maneuvering cleverly, Miss Partridge was talking industrial tests with Charles, while Bill, puffing on his old pipe, let his half-shut eyes rest on her face, and then move across to Catherine. Was he smiling?
Marian's call came just then, and Catherine rose.
"May I come along, Catherine? I haven't seen the kids since that night in Maine." Henrietta stopped at Spencer's door, and as Catherine draped Marian's slim body in the huge bath towel, she heard Spencer's eager voice and Dr. Henrietta's bluff tone. Marian, her face rosy and her dark hair rumpled, threw herself into Henrietta's arms. "Hello, my Doctor!" she cried.
They had a moment in the hall, when Henrietta looked firmly into Catherine's eyes.
"You stop your worrying," she said. "You won't swing your job unless you are clear of doubts. Brace up!" Her hand clasped Catherine's. "If I can help you any way, be sure you let me know."
"Oh, you are a brick!" Catherine's fingers were convulsive. "I do need you!"
The three in the living room looked up at their entrance.
"Spencer sent you his regards, Bill. He wished me to tell you that he thought the cows recovered from the alarm your car caused them."
Bill removed his pipe, a slow smile on his gaunt face.
"Ghost cows, Charles. Not in your lexicon. But we felt them in that old barn, behind those stanchions."
When they had gone, Charles followed Catherine into the dining room, gathered a handful of coffee cups, and walked after her into the disorderly kitchen.
"What'd you think of her?" he asked, casually.
"Her being the cat?" Catherine grinned at him. She was at ease again, confident, the sense of nonentity gone.
"Oh, Stella Partridge, of course. Fine person, isn't she! No nonsense about her. Mind like a man's."
"Is it?" Catherine stacked the dishes in the sink.