John did not look over-pleased. "Rinaldi was not the man for the job," he said with a frown. "My father was carried away with his enthusiasm for the man's work in clay. Rinaldi was no good out of his studio, and Madison quickly recognized it. The fact that Rinaldi was a foreigner had nothing to do with the matter."
Rodrigo now listened with interest for the first time since he had sat down at the table. He foresaw that his career with Dorning and Son might not prove as unruffled as he had anticipated. This did not greatly annoy him. He had little of the eccentric artistic temperament, and there was enough of the merchant blood in him to enable him to adapt himself to office work. At least, he hoped so. If obstacles arose, he would overcome them.
"Who is Mr. Madison?" Rodrigo asked politely.
"He is the manager of our establishment," John explained. "There is no cause for alarm, Rodrigo. He is the most honest, fairest person alive."
Rosner, glancing furtively from one of his tablemates to the other, sensed that he had rather put his foot into it. Why had he not remembered that Count Torriani was a foreigner? He flushed with embarrassment and, to change the subject, asked John, "Is your father still active in the business?"
Dorning's sensitive face clouded. He answered, "No, my father has not been in very good health for the past year or so. He is staying at our place at Greenwich and only gets down to the office once or twice a month."
"Then you have charge?"
"Yes—with the able assistance of Madison and the rest of our staff. It isn't a very difficult job, as you can imagine. The long-standing reputation of Dorning and Son and the organization my father built up don't leave a very great deal for the head of the concern to do."
"All the same, it's quite a responsibility for a young fellow only a few years out of college, John, and I congratulate you." What there was of shrewdness in Mark Rosner now showed in his dark, ineffective eyes. Young Dorning was evidently kind-hearted, and, of necessity, inexperienced. An appeal to him for assistance by an old employee of his father's would probably meet with a favorable response.
After dinner the two younger men contrived to rid themselves of Rosner's company temporarily on the plea that they wished to unpack their bags. Having accomplished this task, they drifted into the smoking-room, where the card players were already hard at it. Waiters were running here and there with tinkling glasses. The air was hazy with the smoke of many cigarettes and cigars.