"What on earth does he want?" demanded Mrs. Scott of Dr. Scott and of the universe.
"The man is a stranger! Why did you invite him here like that?"
"We are told to entertain strangers," replied Mrs. Scott flippantly. "What does he want here? What does he want with Eleanor Bent? What is this about Mrs. Lister's brother?"
"I don't know. I didn't ask. It's none of my affair."
"Perhaps she has applied somewhere for a position. What—"
Dr. Scott gathered up his papers and books. He dropped the "Fortnightly Review" and almost groaned to see that magazine and cover had parted company. Then he bestowed upon his wife one of the glances of incredulous astonishment which he had cast upon her during all but a very brief period of their married life, and fled. That a party involved the making of ice-cream and that he would be required to furnish the motive power for its manufacture in the middle of to-morrow's hot afternoon was not the least disturbing of the reflections which this unfortunate incident introduced into his mind.