She had sat down in one of the bachelor chairs, to take her weight from her feet, which hurt her by reason of new shoes half a size too small. The sitting-room was pleasant enough in a strictly orthodox fashion, and was illuminated by an electric-lamp on the black centre-table. Mrs. Heth, who had helped Willie with his furnishings, had considered it the prettiest electrolier that fourteen dollars would buy in the town during the week before last. Carlisle had come to a halt before the bookcase. It was a mission-oak case, with leaded glass doors. For the moment it might be said to represent rather the aspirations of a bibliophile than their fulfilment, since it contained but seven books, huddled together on the next-to-the-top shelf. Carlisle swung open the door, and examined the Kerr library title by title: "Ben Hur," "The Little Minister," "Law's Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life" (from his loving Grandma--Xmas 1904), "Droll Tales," "Religio Medici" (Grandma again--Xmas 1907), "The Cynic's Book of Girls"--
Carlisle laughed merrily. "Willie has two copies of 'The Cynic's Book of Girls.'... I'd never thought of him as a divil with the women somehow."
"He could never get Helen Tellford to _look_ at him."
"'Religio Medici.' Is it religious or medical? It might be either, by my Latin."
"One of those faith-healing things, I suppose. Emmanuel Movement. I'd sit down if I were you.... Ah! There's Willie at last. Mind, Carlisle,--don't you hear the steps?"
"Well, we're invited to look at his things--aren't--"
Her careless voice died, as both together became aware that these could not possibly be the steps of a proprietor. The approaching feet halted decorously without, and instead of the door's bursting open there came only a manly knock upon it. Carlisle looked at her mother, and found that her mother was looking at her with quite a tense expression. This certainly was not the way they had wanted things to happen....
"Possibly it's only a tradesman," murmured Mrs. Heth, with hope; and she added in a commanding voice: "Come in."
The door opened, with a certain stately dubiousness. Full on the threshold stood Mr. Hugo Canning, no less: an impressive presence in loose motor-coat of black fur. Mr. Canning stood agaze; it was to be seen that he was taken considerably by surprise.