Kate didn't believe it was quite so new to her as all that.
Mr. Donner was there. They had waited until he was back in Westlake. He had been away for over a year, out in Colorado Springs and Cripple Creek. Dull, pompous old thing, Kate thought, and then decided she must have been mistaken as she watched him on the divan with Jodie on his knee. She could see how eagerly the little boy was talking to him, catching his breath sometimes; she could hear Mr. Donner's polite contributions: "You don't say so!" "Well, I never!"
She heard Joe's voice: "We rather think of going to Italy for the winter. No, we wouldn't travel about—just take a villa somewhere by the sea, and live very quietly. I'd like the bambino to learn Italian, and Mrs. Green would do some painting, of course."
"Mrs. Cuthbert! So good of you to come. . . . Oh, do you really? Of course it's just a sketch. . . . Well, that's so sweet of you! Cream or lemon? . . . Doctor Wells! A busy man like you! Well, I do feel complimented. Here's my big man, helping mother. See if you can carry the chocolates over to Mrs. Palmer without spilling them, darling. . . . Yes, indeed, Mrs. Thornton. Now isn't it awful of me, I can't remember whether it was one lump or two. . . . Oh, Mr. Jackson! You know, I do think they're particularly fine this year. I put soot around
