After the edge of their hunger had been worn off and they had turned their attention more delicately to ice cream and _demi-tasse_, their thoughts drifted backward to events at Andrews, which seemed already very much in the dim and distant past.
"Katherine, when you said you felt as if Mr. Huntington would soon find his grandson, did you have any reason for saying that, or was it just to comfort him?" Peggy inquired reminiscently.
"No, honestly, Peggy," insisted Katherine, "I could feel it in my mind just like anything that it will happen. Did you notice I didn't say anything about his daughter? That was because I had no such feeling about her--so you see it wasn't just to make him feel better at all. It's strange, isn't it, how thoughts about the future come to you sometimes?"
"Never do to me," laughed Peggy with a shake of her head. "Just think, Katherine, I didn't ever even have an idea until I actually saw you that I was going to room with anyone like you at Andrews. When I used to wonder what my room-mate would be like, I always thought of some--entirely different kind of a person--and I was afraid maybe she'd want the window shut when I wanted it open, or she'd be a grind and I'd bother her,--and when I saw you--"
"Were you satisfied?" teased Katherine across the table.
"Oh--" sighed Peggy in mock rapture, and then she smiled her sweet, frank, confident, dark-eyed smile straight into her room-mate's eyes. "I was just about as glad as they make 'em," she declared.
"I know what let's do," she said radiantly, "let's go to Madame Blakey when we get to my house and ask her about the Huntington boy."
"Oh, I forgot you wouldn't know. She's a clairvoyant and reads the future out of a little glass of water. Yes, and you needn't smile. Sometimes it comes out just as she says. I've never been, but some of the business men in our town believe in every word she says."
"She doesn't tell you the horrid things--just the ones worth while knowing--don't you think it would be thrilling to go?" Katherine poised her ice-cream spoon half way to her mouth while she waited for Peggy's wild delight in the scheme which she felt sure must come.
"I--I--don't know--" Peggy disappointingly murmured. "Does she have curtains painted with red and gold Turkish half-moons and all that? And does she fade off into a--" she shuddered, "a--trance? Because I don't want to see anything like that, honest, I don't. Of course, I know the trances are just make-believe, but I don't like them."