It was Aunt Jane who came leisurely in, glancing at the two men. "Miss
Canfield's at dinner. She'll come pretty quick--if you need her."
"We don't need her. He's to go to bed for a while." The doctor nodded to
Herman Medfield, who had got up from his chair, and was standing beside
him.
The millionaire in his blue silk robe with the velvet girdle and tassel
was a stately figure; and, for the second time, Aunt Jane had a lively
sense of Dr. Carmon's short, uncouthness and rumpled clothes--there was
a large grease spot on the front of his vest. Her mind made a quick note
of the spot while her eyes travelled placidly to Herman Medfield.
"I'm glad you've made up your mind," she said pleasantly.
He was moving toward the door of his bedroom. He stopped. "It isn't _my_
mind. It's the doctor's mind that's made up," he replied suavely.
Dr. Carmon watched him and smiled a little and Miss Canfield, coming in
the door, wondered what Dr. Carmon's smile meant.
Aunt Jane and the doctor returned to the office.... She faced him.
"What's the matter?" she said.
He shook his head. "Just one of those things to keep you guessing." He
shrugged his shoulders.
Aunt Jane's eye rested on the grease spot. "Soap and water will take
that off!" she said practically. She laid a finger on the spot.
The doctor doubled his chin to look down on himself.
"Have the water hot--and plenty of soap," said Aunt Jane.
He grunted, and drew his coat over the spot. "When I get time," he
replied.