The maid who admitted Wheaton had let him elect between the drawing room and the library, and he chose the latter instinctively, as less formal and more appropriate for an interview based on his dual social and business relations with the Porters. His slim figure appeared to advantage in evening clothes; he was no longer afraid of rooms that were handsome and spacious like this. There was nowadays no more correctly groomed man in Clarkson than he, though Warry Raridan had remarked to Wheaton at the Bachelors' that his ties were composed a trifle too neatly; a tie to be properly done should, Raridan held, leave something to the imagination. Wheaton heard the swish of Evelyn's skirts in the hall with a quickening heartbeat. Her black gown intensified her fairness; he had never seen her in black before, and it gave a new accent to her beauty as she came toward him. "It was a great shock to us down town to hear of your father's illness. He seemed as well as usual yesterday." "Did you think so? I thought he looked worn when he came home last evening. He has been working very hard lately." Wheaton had never seen her so grave. He was sincerely sorry for her trouble, and he tried to say so. There was something appealing in her unusual calm; the low tones of her voice were not wasted on him. "Father asked me to send for you this morning, but he had grown so ill in a few hours that I took the responsibility of not doing it. The doctor said emphatically that he must not see people. But something in particular was on his mind, some papers that Mr. Fenton should have. They are in his box at the bank, and I was to give you the key to it. It is something about the Traction Company; no doubt you know of it?" "Yes," Wheaton assented. It was not necessary for him to say that Mr. Porter had told him nothing about it. "You can attend to this easily?" "Yes, certainly. Mr. Fenton spoke to me about the matter this afternoon. It is very important and he wished me to report to him as soon as I found the papers. No doubt they are in your father's box," he said. "He is always very methodical." He smiled at her reassuringly and rose. She did not ask him to stay longer, but went to fetch the key. It was a small, thin bit of steel. Wheaton turned it over in his hand. "I'll return the key to-morrow, after I've found the papers Mr. Fenton wants." "Very well. I hope you will have no difficulty." He still held the key in his fingers, not knowing whether this was his dismissal or not. "There is one thing more, Mr. Wheaton. Father seemed very much troubled about this Traction matter--" "Very unnecessarily, I'm sure," said Wheaton soothingly.