"Come here!" said Aunt Jane.
And while he fidgeted and grumbled, her firm, efficient fingers scrubbed at him with soap and hot water and a bit of rough cloth. Satisfaction shone on him. "I never knew a man that could keep himself clean!" she said briskly.
"There!" She stood back a little. "It doesn't show much now. I'll do a little more on it—when it's dried off so I can see."
He backed hastily away. "I'll send it to the tailor. I'll do it to-night."
"You don't need to waste money on tailors," she said calmly. "A little soap and—" But he was gone.
Aunt Jane smiled to herself and put back the soap and hung up the cloth and replaced the screen. She moved with the ample leisure of those who have plenty of time.
A nurse came in from the waiting-room. "A man is here—a Mr. Dalton. He wants to know if he can see you?"
"Yes, I'll see him," said Aunt Jane.
"He said he could come again if you are too busy." The nurse waited.