No, Marcia was not greatly maternal, certainly--but this was not important. But he could not quite decide what was important. He was still puzzling over it when Betsy bounced into the kitchen. "Whew," she said, giving him a light kiss, "what a day!" She pulled out a mirror from her pocket and looked into it. "I think I'm going to have a red nose. That sun was bright and hot; I hope none of the kids got too much. But they _will_ keep dashing into the water, and it's hard to catch them again to get them to put their shirts on. I think Timmy's back is a little red, but I guess it won't be too much." She collapsed violently into a chair. Tom smiled at her. It was refreshing to see anyone who could be tired in such a dynamic way. "You look as if you had a day," he said. "We did," she said, looking happy. She heaved herself up to get a cup and saucer and to pour herself a cup of coffee. Then, sitting down, she looked at him. "And what have you been doing?" she asked him. "Oh, buzzing around town," he told her. "And brooding." "Brooding?" she asked. He explained to her what the situation was, telling her that they must soon decide what to do about Marcia--whether to accept her as a member of the clan or not. He told her that only by accepting the girl could they get the job at Eltron Electronics that they wanted. And he told her Ricky's thinking that the thing must be decided that night, and warned her of the coming caucus. The words boiled out of him; when he was through, he slumped down, suddenly tired. Betsy cocked her head and studied him. There was a soft look in her eyes of the sort she usually saved for the children. "Why has it upset you?" she asked. "Upset me?" Tom seemed surprised. "Well, yes, I suppose it has. Sue was in here, and I got to thinking of the kids. What this'll mean to them." "The kids?" She looked surprised. "Why should this mean anything to the kids? Anything special, that is?" "Well, if we turn her down, we got to take the Universal job," he explained. "And that means moving. Moving's always hard on kids. And if we accept her, then the kids'll have a lot to do with her." "I assume she won't roast them live over the coals," Betsy said. "And I think the kids are tough enough to take almost anything else." She snickered. "You don't see them as much as I do. If you did you'd know they were a lot tougher than they look, the delicate little things!" "Oh, I'm not talking about that," he said. "I don't expect her to bat them around or anything. But I just wonder how they'll take to _her_." She shrugged. "If they don't like her, they can always come to me. Or Rita. Or Polly or Esther or Sandy. Or even Joan, providing they don't mess up the livingroom while they do it. The kids will get along, don't worry.