"Is Monday the great day?" Bill was looking at her, and Catherine smiled swiftly at the warm, quiet friendliness of his eyes. "Monday!" she declared. "I telephoned Dr. Roberts this morning." "Isn't it fine, Miss Partridge"--Henrietta turned briskly to her--"this move of Mrs. Hammond's." "I haven't heard about it." Miss Partridge's dark, smooth brows lifted. Did Charles look uneasy, almost guilty, as he stretched out in his armchair and fumbled in the box of cigars? "You haven't?" Henrietta grinned slyly at Catherine. "Haven't you heard that Mrs. Hammond is renouncing the quiet, domestic life for a real job?" "Why not say exchanging jobs?" Charles was intent on the end of his cigar. "Or annexing a second job?" That was Bill's quiet voice. "I am going to work at the Lynch Bureau," explained Catherine, "as investigator." She felt a flash of delight in the astonishment which rippled briefly over Miss Partridge's smooth face. Knocked down her first impression, she thought maliciously. "Really? How interesting!" Miss Partridge smiled. "But what will your sweet children do?" "They'll go to school and have an efficient nurse," said Henrietta abruptly, "and they'll be vastly better off when they aren't having the sole attention of an intelligent woman like their mother. And that's that!" She dangled her glasses over her forefinger. "Did you decide that girl was malingering, Miss Partridge? She certainly had no physical symptoms. Just a case we ran into the other day," she added, to Catherine. 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.