"It's as good as Christmas, isn't it, Muvver?" Marian was on tiptoe, her Pogo stick clasped to her side, her head close to Spencer's as he tore off the papers. "Thought I'd help make him practical, to please the King." "What is it?" Spencer knelt beside the box full of pieces of steel. "You stick them together, and make skyscrapers and bridges and water towers and elevators. The clerk said you could build a city." "Let me help, Spencer?" Marian flung herself on the floor beside Spencer. "Me help!" Letty squirmed down from Catherine's lap. "You might take the things into the dining room," suggested Catherine. Spencer gathered up the box. "I'm much obliged, Aunt Margie," he said, and Marian and Letty echoed him as they followed into the next room. Margaret settled herself in a chair at the window. "I thought your nurse would be in charge." Her eyes wandered out to the distant glint of water. "Thought you'd given up the heavy domestic act." "I sent her home." Catherine smiled. "Weak minded, wasn't it?" Margaret nodded. "Certainly. You look fagged. You ought to be out horseback riding or something. You know"--she turned, her face serious--"if you're going to do a real job, you have to look out. You have to relax sometime." "I have to read the d'rections first, don't I?" came Spencer's firm tones. "You can sit still and watch." "Now I didn't budge from my bed until noon," went on Margaret, "and then Amy had breakfast ready for me, and then I jumped in a taxi and came up here. I have to run along in a minute, high tea down in the Village. But you've been at work since early dawn, haven't you?" "Oh, there were a few things----" "Why don't you find a real housekeeper in Flora's place?" "I can't afford to pay more, yet. And Flora is too good to throw out. I can manage." "You know"--Margaret's eyes were bright with curiosity--"I should like to know what started this, your leaving your happy home, I mean. I thought you were the devoted mother till eternity." "I am," said Catherine, calmly. Then she leaned forward. "Do you realize that the loneliest person in the world is a devoted mother? This summer, Margaret, I thought I'd really go crazy. I was so sorry for myself it was ludicrous. I'm trying to find out if I am a person, with anything to use except a pair of hands--on monotonous, silly tasks." "Of course, the trouble is just that. You are a person. I'm glad you've waked up, Catherine. You know, there isn't a man in the world that I'd give up my job for." "I want a man, too." Catherine's mouth was stubborn. "And my children. I want everything. Perhaps I want too much."