"You are too tired for more business to-day, dear. Come—let me get your medicine."
She took his arm and with all the gentleness in the world led him from the room, motioning to me with one hand to keep my seat. When they had gone I removed the cloth from the portrait on the easel and took a good look at it. It was the picture of a gentleman, surely. While I was looking at it, and wondering about the man, Mrs. Dround came back into the room and stood at my side.
"It is good, isn't it?"
"Yes," I admitted reluctantly, thinking it was only too good. As I replaced the cloth over the picture, I noticed that her lips were drawn tight as if she suffered. I had read a part of their story in that pathetic little way in which she had led her husband from the room.
"So you have started," she said soon, turning away from the picture. "How are you getting on? Tell me everything!"
When she had the situation before her, she remarked:—
"Now is the time to take the next step, and for that you need Mr. Dround's help."
"Exactly. These separate plants must be taken over, a holding company incorporated, and the whole financed. It can be done if—"
"If Mr. Dround will consent," she finished my sentence, "and give his aid in raising the money?"
Her shrewdness, immediate comprehension, roused my admiration. But what was her interest in the scheme? As Sarah had told me, it was generally believed that Jane Dround had a large fortune in her own right. Why should she bother with the packing business? She might spend her time more agreeably picking up Italian marbles. Her next words partly answered my wonder:—