But her husband gave no sign of summoning her. Patience became impatience. She could hear in his voice the tone which he assumed when he was bored or when he was talking with persons whom he did not like. She could still hear only unintelligible fragments of the conversation. She clicked the latch again.
Dr. Scott did not like the stranger, either for himself or his clothes or his speech. It was a period when Anglomania affected the rising generation and this youth used English pronunciations as he might have used a monocle, with evident and painful effort. In what he had to say Dr. Scott was not the least interested. He had begun to open the mail which lay on the chair beside him and he wished desperately that the young man would state his errand and go.
When Utterly asked finally for Basil Everman, Dr. Scott was not able to help him in his search. He said that he had lived in Waltonville for only about fifteen years and that he did not remember that he had ever heard of Basil. Richard Everman had been president of the college and he had had one child, a daughter who was now Mrs. Lister. From her the family history could doubtless be learned. It might be that Basil was her uncle. Dr. Scott stirred uneasily, as he was wont to do when he was anxious to be left in peace.
Mrs. Scott had moved to the side of the doorway from which she could see the stranger. He seemed to her each moment more distinguished in appearance. She was certain that he hailed from that distant Boston which she adored without having seen. When she saw him reach for his hat and stick, which he had laid on the porch floor beside him, she lifted the latch and walked out. She was just in the nick of time. Neither the conductor nor the brakeman nor even the hotel-keeper was as offensive to Utterly as this man who professed to teach English literature. He did not exhibit his magazines or explain why he sought Basil Everman.
For once, Dr. Scott did as he was expected and desired to do. Rising, he presented the stranger to Mrs. Scott with a cordiality which only hope of his own escape could have inspired. Now, at least, he need not talk. Perhaps he could even leave the stranger entirely in her hands. This was, he explained with a Chesterfieldian bow, Mr. Utterly, who was making inquiry about some one named Basil Everman.
Mrs. Scott seated herself with a finality of manner which made it necessary for Utterly to be seated also.
"Oh, yes?" said she eagerly and inquiringly.
"Do you know anything of him?" asked Utterly.
"Why, yes. He was a brother of Mrs. Lister. He died—"
"Died!" repeated Utterly.