II
From the dining room, Leonard and Violet could see who stood outside—a large figure in a plumed hat and billowing cloak, like a cavalier. It was no cavalier, however, but a lady.
“Dr. Wilder’s house?” the stranger asked.
“Yes,” said Marian. “If you’ll step into the waiting room, I’ll see if the doctor’s disengaged.”
“Deary,” said the visitor, “tell him it’s his Aunt Jean!”
At this Evan stepped forward.
“I am Dr. Wilder,” he announced sternly—sternly, because he had no Aunt Jean.
“No!” cried she. “You don’t say! You must be one of the boys; but it’s old Dr. Wilder I’m looking for.”
“He—” Evan began, and hesitated. “My father—”
“No!” said she, all sympathy. “Gone? That’s just terrible! I looked in the telephone book, and I saw ‘Dr. Wilder,’ and I came here. My! That’s sad! And you’re a doctor, too? Deary, you’ve got a grand presence!”