"I'm glad you were out for a walk this morning." Catherine wanted to break through the thin ice of constraint--or was it better to pretend that she did not see it? "I was afraid you might stay away from--us," she said quickly. "That's very good of you." Bill spoke formally, his eyes on the children pelting up the steps. "Mr. Bill, would you go coasting again?" Spencer stuck his elbow up to ward off a snowball from Marian. "You stop that, Marian. I'm not playing now. Would you?" He frowned at his sister. "I'm playing." Catherine pinioned Marian's snowy mittens in her own hands. "An' anyway, the snow'll be gone, won't it, Muvver?" "It'll snow again this winter, won't it?" snorted Spencer. "When it does, we'll have a coast," Bill said gravely. For a moment he met Catherine's glance, and suddenly the ice was gone, so suddenly that Catherine almost laughed out in delight. "Will you come, too?" he asked. "Don't wait for the next snow." Catherine gave Marian a soft push toward the door. "Run along. Take Letty's hand, please." Her smile at Bill was grateful; having admitted her past his barriers, he was unresentful. "Come sooner!" She extended her hand, felt the quick pressure of his fingers. Like a secret pact--she wondered a little, as she went into the hall. Words are clumsy, with Bill, as if he dwelt so far beneath ordinary surfaces that words didn't reach him. "You like Mr. Bill, too, don't you, Mother?" Spencer pressed against her confidentially as the elevator creaked up to their floor. "Yes, I do." "He's a nice man," Marian agreed. "I'd like to marry him." "He's got a wife, silly," objected Spencer. "And you're only a little girl and little girls don't get married." "Pretty soon I can." Marian turned her back on Spencer and darted out of the elevator door, dragging Letty briskly after her. Spencer's eyes were wide with disapproval, but Catherine laughed at him, and opened the apartment door. Charles sat at his desk. He looked up ruefully. "Home again! Say, I forgot all about your potatoes." "Oh, well." Catherine was undisturbed. "You'll just have to wait longer for your dinner, then." As she hurried to the kitchen she heard Marian, "An' Mr. Bill came and coasted, and Muvver coasted with him, only not belly-bump," and Charles, "So that's why you're so late, is it?" VIII Mrs. Spencer came presently. Catherine rose from the oven, blowing wryly on a burnt thumb. "Take Gram's coat and hat, please, Spencer." She kissed her mother's cool pink cheek. "How well you look!" "What a pretty chain!" Marian touched the wrought silver and dull blue stones. "Isn't it, Muvver?" "Margaret gave it to me yesterday, to match my new dress." Mrs. Spencer crinkled her eyes shrewdly. "Propitiation. She can't get over her surprise that I stand her absence so well." "I suppose that freak woman put her up to it," said Charles, from the doorway.