The chauffeur glanced up and caught sight of him and sprang up the steps.
"Can I help you, sir?" He offered a helpful arm. But Medfield motioned it aside.
"I'm all right, Buckman.... I'm quite myself, thank you. I am waiting for some one——"
He glanced toward the door. "Some one is coming—with me."
The chauffeur returned to his car, standing immovable, and the master of the car waited on the steps.... There had been a dozen things to do. Aunt Jane had insisted on his seeing Mrs. Pelton, and there had been delays. And at the last minute, Aunt Jane had disappeared in her office for something. He turned toward the door.
She was coming.
The door opened and Aunt Jane stood in it, smiling and competent—in her cap.
He flashed a look at it. "You're not coming?" It was disappointed and vexed.
"Yes, I'm coming." Her face was pleased.