"Nothing direct, sir. His nephew, Hatton, came round with a tender for the bunker coal, and implied that he ought to get the job. Then I had a notion Mrs. Seaton, so to speak, was primed. Looked as if somebody had got at her; her arguments about the dividend were rather good."
"It's possible," said Cartwright dryly. "If she comes, you can show her in. But what about the wine?"
"I don't know if it will see you out. There's not a great deal left, and last time—"
Cartwright's eyes twinkled. "Exactly! Send for another bottle and see you get the proper stuff. Some of the biscuits, too; you know the kind. Rather a bother, but perhaps the best plan!"
"Safer than going out to lunch," Gavin remarked. "Then, in the office, you're on your own ground. That counts."
"Gives you moral support and handicaps an antagonist who's not a business man?" Cartwright suggested. "Well, perhaps it does so, but I see some drawbacks. Anyhow, get the wine."
Gavin went off and Cartwright mused by the fire. The morning was raw and foggy, and if he went out, the damp might get at his throat; moreover, Gavin would reply to his letters. Cartwright had begun to feel it was time to let others work while he looked on. His control counted for less than he had thought; things went without much guidance and it was enough to give them a push in the proper direction now and then. To rouse himself for an effort was getting harder and he would have been satisfied to rest, had not his pride, and, to some extent, his step-children's antagonism, prevented his doing so. He needed money and would not use his wife's.
One must pay for old extravagances, and the bills were coming in; Mrs. Seaton's expected call was an example. Ellen was a widow, but before she married Seaton, Cartwright knew she counted him her lover. They were alike in temperament; rash, strong-willed, and greedy for all that gave life a thrill. In fact, Ellen was a stimulating comrade, but not the kind of girl one married. Cartwright married Clara and knew Mrs. Seaton bore him a lasting grudge.
Since Seaton was a merchant whose investments in Liverpool were numerous, it was perhaps not strange he left his widow shares that gave her some control of the Cartwright line. Although she was not poor, she was greedy and extravagant. In fact, Cartwright imagined greed was now her ruling passion.
By and by he heard steps in the passage behind the partition and thought he knew the tap of high-heeled shoes. Then he heard a laugh and Gavin's voice. Ellen was using her charm on his bookkeeper and the old sport would play up. The door opened, the room smelt of violets, and Mrs. Seaton came in. She was tall and her furs gave her large figure a touch of dignity. Her color was sharply white and red, and in the rather dim light her skin was like a girl's. Cartwright knew Ellen was younger than he, but not very much.