"You are really going to do it, take that job?" "I wrote you----" "When do you start?" "Monday. That's why I'm here." She couldn't help that air of defense! "I had to have a few days to shop for the children, and get the house running." "Hard on them, isn't it?" "I thought a few days couldn't matter so much to them as to me." "No." Charles turned the doorknob. "Charles!" Catherine seized his hand. "Are you--cross?" "Of course not." He sounded impatient. "But I have to get over to college sometime to-day." "Have you changed your mind about my trying this?" "No." He pursed his under lip, hesitatingly. "I didn't know you were going to jump in so immediately. But it's quite all right." Catherine released his hand, and he pulled open the door. He stood a moment on the threshold, and then wheeled. "I--I'm glad you're home." Catherine was in his arms, her lips quivering as he kissed her. "There, run along!" She patted his shoulder, her eyes misty. * * * * * But when he had gone, she leaned against the door, brushing hot tears from her lashes. She could hear the children, their voices raised in jangling. It was going to be hard, harder than she had thought. Bill was right; she would have a double job. She might have more than that, if Charles really carried a secret antagonism to her plan. Perhaps he was only gruffy; perhaps this was only a flicker of his unadmitted dislike of anything which threatened change, anything at least which he had not originated. But she saw, clearly, what she had felt as a possibility, that she had, for a time, his attitude as further weight to carry. That he wouldn't admit his attitude made the weight heavier, if anything. As she went slowly towards the sounds of squabbling, she saw her attempt as a monstrous undertaking, like unknown darkness into which she ventured, fearing at every step some unseen danger; and heaviness pressed down physically upon her. VII Breakfast restored the temper of the children, and lifted part of her own heaviness. The day then stretched into long hours. The children couldn't go out into the park, as the drizzle of the morning increased to cold rain. Toward noon Dr. Henrietta telephoned, and Catherine found her voice like a wind blowing into flame her almost smothered intentions. Henrietta was sending over that evening the woman she had mentioned: Miss Kelly. She could come at once, if Catherine liked her. She would have to come by the day, as she had an invalid mother. "We'll run in soon, Catherine, Bill and I. Don't you weaken!"