She liked to give parties, having an unalterable conviction that upon her depended the literary and social life of the feminine portion of Waltonville. Her parties were not like Mrs. Lister's, to which the ladies took their sewing and where there were many good things to eat. She set her astonished and frightened guests down to little tables, furnished them with paper and pencil and required them to write, beside the words "Popular Bishop" or "Little Misses' Adoration" or "Curiosity Depicter," the names of the famous individuals whose initials were thus indicated and whose qualities or achievements were thus described. In planning her entertainments she always had consideration for the slight attainments of her guests and never included from her long list of eminent persons "Eulogizes Antipodes" or "Eminently Zealous" or "Won England's Greatness."
For this party she provided no entertainment. Mr. Utterly would be there, and during her impatient waiting inside her screen door she had heard that he did not lack words or a will to use them. Thomasina Davis could talk well when she wished, and there were Richard and Cora to sing and play. Moreover, there was herself!
Cora put on one of her prettiest dresses, and, parasol and little bag in hand, devoted a large part of the morning to her errand. At the Myerses she did not linger; at the Listers she sat long enough to be certain that Richard was nowhere about; at Thomasina's she stayed for an hour, enjoying the cool, pleasant parlor and the quiet, and wishing that Richard would come. She admired the chintz curtains which Thomasina substituted for her winter hangings, she liked the bare floors and the cool gray walls which her mother thought were so very homely and she loved to listen to Thomasina's voice. Thomasina seemed to be so complete, and though she gave so much to other people, she seemed to be so wholly sufficient for herself. It must be dreadful, Cora thought, to grow old and not to have been married, even though one had everything else, good looks and a lovely house and beautiful clothes and perfect independence. Even those could not compensate for being an old maid. But Thomasina really seemed not to mind. She could, Cora believed, always be happy with her books and her music and her flowers. One always felt, when one was leaving her on a rainy morning after one's lesson, when the day looked interminable, that it did not look interminable to her, and that even if she were alone she would still be content. Cora wished that she herself did not care so desperately for other people, especially for Richard Lister. She had hoped in vain to see him this morning either at his mother's or here. But his mother said that he would come to the party—there was that to look forward to.
Having dispatched her messenger and having set herself and her maid to the baking of cake and her husband to the turning of the ice-cream freezer, Mrs. Scott was relieved to see that the stranger was still in Waltonville after the four-o'clock train had gone. She grew more and more elated as the hours passed. She had read of the curious and interesting behavior of celebrated persons at parties—perhaps she would henceforth have her own anecdotes to relate. She had asked a number of persons about Basil Everman, including her black 'Celie, who rolled her eyes and promised to inquire of the older members of the settlement. She reported that 'Manda had said there was no harm in Marse Basil and that Virginia's mother had said there was no good in him. He didn't do much of anything and he was "pow'ful good-lookin'."
When she thought of Eleanor Bent, Mrs. Scott's curiosity grew torturing in its keenness. Was Eleanor trying to get some sort of literary position? Dr. Scott, when questioned, said that she was the best pupil he had, the best he had ever had, he believed, but that she was hardly prepared for any literary position.
"Besides, the Bents wouldn't know of any," said Mrs. Scott.
Dr. Scott was on the last lap of his task. Back and arms ached and perspiration streamed from his body. When Mrs. Scott asked in sudden uneasiness whether she had better provide a game of authors or some similar entertainment, he looked up at her with the expression of a kindly, inoffensive animal prepared for sacrifice and entirely aware of the intentions of his master. He longed for his quiet study, longed for his comfortable chair, longed for his English magazine with a new article by Pater. The prospect of an evening spent in company with the stranger and with the Myerses was almost intolerable. Even the Listers and Dr. Green and Thomasina Davis, for whom he had usually the friendliest regard, seemed to acquire unpleasant qualities. When Mrs. Scott suggested his hanging Chinese lanterns from the roof of the porch, he rebelled and fled.
Utterly arrived early, and Mrs. Scott, to her intense annoyance, was not quite ready to receive him, nor was Dr. Scott. While she struggled with the most elaborate of her dresses and her husband labored with his necktie, Utterly sat on the front porch with Cora, who answered him in monosyllables. Cora was always ready for everything, and in her quiet way was equal to any task which might fall to her lot. She did not like the stranger, and when he began to sing the praises of Eleanor Bent's appearance and pretty manners and bright mind, she felt a sharp antagonism. She was thankful when her mother billowed noisily down the stairway, her silk skirts rustling, for then she could sit chin on hand on the step and look off toward the dim bulk of the Lister house.
As Mrs. Scott reached the porch, Professor and Mrs. Myers came into sight. Except with a view to providing a sufficient number for her party, Mrs. Scott had no special reason for inviting them. Professor Myers spoke English with difficulty, and his wife scarcely spoke at all in any language, and never upon subjects which did not have to do with the nursery or the kitchen. Mrs. Scott felt that neither was worthy for an instant of the brilliant give-and-take of her own conversation.
Beside the tall stranger Professor Myers looked like a fat and very dull cherub. When Utterly addressed Mrs. Myers, with what was to Mrs. Scott delightful courtesy, she looked upon his overtures with an emotion which was plainly alarm. She answered him only with a shake of the head and a faint smile which to Mrs. Scott savored of imbecility.