"I'm not going to bed!" said Medfield irritably. "I don't want to lie
down. I'm tired of lying down!" He looked out of the window and scowled.
The nurse was silent a minute, regarding him thoughtfully. Then she laid
a light, cool hand on his wrist and her fingers found the pulse and held
it.
"There's nothing the matter!" he said crossly.
"No, there doesn't seem to be." She released his wrist and went quietly
out.
The millionaire's eyes followed her.... A shrewd flash came into them.
The little annoyance had left his face; it had the keen, concentrated
look that men who knew Herman Medfield did not care to see on his
face--if they had business with him. It was the look that meant he was
on the track of something or somebody.
He reached out to the bell.
Miss Canfield came. She waited with an inquiring look.
"I should like to see Mrs. Holbrook," said Medfield politely.
"Aunt Jane?" The nurse hesitated. "She's in the Children's Ward. Is it
something that can wait--or something I can do for you, sir?" Her face
was troubled.
He smiled at her reassuringly. "I want to see Aunt Jane-- She will come,
I think--if you tell her." He settled back comfortably in his chair and
waited.
He did not look up when Aunt Jane came in. His head rested against the
chair and his face was drawn in the look of pathetic distress and
helplessness that calls for pity.
Aunt Jane took in the look with kindly glance.
"You've been having too much company," she said.
"I do feel rather done up," admitted Medfield weakly.
"Well, you better go right to bed--" Aunt Jane moved toward the door of
the adjoining room.
"I'm not going to bed," said Medfield.