Although the day set for the visit of Harker, Pentecost, and Alfred to the mansion on Torrington Road was not one of Mrs. Temple’s days _in_ according to custom, but was branded by the calendar as a Friday (which was one of her days _out_) the old woman was there just the same. Since the appearance of Mr. Pentecost at the house nearly a week before she had been obsessed by the feeling that he was working up some treacherous plot against the trusting young fellow in her charge, and she was determined to be on hand to keep a watch on the vicious brute if he came to the house again—as she had no doubt whatever that he would. But Haworth had taken note of this tendency of Mrs. Temple’s to be present irrespective of her days in and finding her there on this particular morning he had sent the old woman on an errand which would keep her away for some time. So when the party arrived at the house it was he who opened the door. Mr. Pentecost greeted him and introduced his partner, Mr. Harker, and Mr. Alfred Harker, after which Haworth ushered them into the room on the left. It was all peculiarly quiet and subdued. Few words were spoken, and those that were, in lowered voices. Pentecost took notice of Haworth’s improved appearance—his quiet, steady voice and the absence of the tortured look and the “drowning-man” stare. After the four were seated there was a brief pause. They seemed weighed down by some sort of oppressive restraint that could almost be described as funereal. It was Harker senior who finally began the conversation, endeavoring, with an allusion to Boston’s climate, to establish a commonplace atmosphere—though one hardly more cheerful; and Harker junior hastened to his assistance with a reference to his surprise at so rural a section being in the heart of the town. He supposed Roxbury—or was it Jamaica Plain?—might be so considered. Pentecost turned them to business, remarking that there wasn’t any time to throw away, and that the first thing was to go down and inspect the machine under consideration, so that the Harkers could get a clear understanding of it. Before they did this, however, he would appreciate information as to the whereabouts of the talented old lady he had seen there on his previous visit. Haworth explained that Mrs. Temple had been dispatched on an errand to East Boston and would have to wait there about three hours before the foundry people could get her the article he’d ordered. Pentecost inquired how much time the journey to East Boston and return would normally require. Haworth thought, with the walk necessary when she got there, it might roughly be put at two hours. “How long ago did she leave?” Pentecost inquired. “About twenty minutes.” “An hour and forty minutes left,” and he glanced at his watch. “Four hours and forty minutes, if she waits there three,” corrected Alfred. “As you say—if she waits there three,” was Pentecost’s muttered rejoinder.