"Perhaps----"
He watched her move about the room, contentedly. Julian was a lucky dog!
Luckier than he knew, to win a girl like that--sweet and sensible and
poor!
"I will mail this now," she said. She took it from the stand.
He watched her go, and looked out of the window, and fell to thinking of
the things life was bringing him.... Everything seemed coming to him out
of this great, comfortable hospital--that he had looked forward to with
dread!... A wife for Julian--He might have searched the world over to
find a girl like that! Straight, and as true as steel, and best of
all--she was poor; she would know the value of money. She had had to
work for it-- He had always spoiled Julian. He knew it, guiltily. Julian
had never known what it was to want for anything that money could
get--except, perhaps, a widow or two! The millionaire's lips smiled
grimly. That danger was over--thank Heaven! The boy would marry a poor
girl--and a lady!... Herman Medfield had perhaps old-fashioned ideas as
to what makes a lady; and the nurse who moved so noiselessly about his
room suited him to perfection.... His thought dwelt on her happily....
Then there was this man, Dalton--Thanks to Aunt Jane!... Ah, that was
the secret! "Thanks to Aunt Jane!"
The millionaire leaned back in his chair, smiling thoughtfully. He had
known that he was coming to that--as he sat there in the window, looking
idly down into the little squares of back yards--he had known all
along--under his thankfulness for Julian--that he was coming to the
thought of Aunt Jane.... He had held it to the last.... It was not
Julian he was thinking of now--with the little smile that kept coming to
his lips.
He was smiling at Aunt Jane and her crispness and her goodness and her
little managing wilful ways that kept him straight.... He was like a
small boy in the very thought of her. A man ought to feel that way
toward his wife, he told himself--all men really feel like that!
There was a gentle tap on the door and he sat up. He smoothed the dreams
from his face.
"Come in!"
The whole room seemed to become a place of comfort, as she came
leisurely across to him.
"I hear you've been doing considerable this morning." She looked at him
uncritically.
His response was guilty. "Only a letter or two-- Sit down, won't you?"
He reached out to a chair for her.
But Aunt Jane interposed--"When you're well enough to wait on folks,
you're well enough to go home," she said.
"Oh-- I'm not well enough for that--I feel sure!" He sank back in his
chair. "I shall be very careful what I do!"
She surveyed him. "I liked the roses you sent-- They're real
handsome!... I don't know as I ever had any handsomer roses sent to me!"
"I am glad you liked them." He was suddenly a little formal and polite.
He had not expected quite such frank and open delight in his offering.
"And the card--" he said softly, after a minute. "I hoped you liked
that, too?" He was almost shy about it!
Aunt Jane looked at him inquiringly and rocked a little. "Was there a
card--?" She seemed considering it. "Maybe it got lost out." She shook
her head.
The shadow crossed his face. "You're sure there wasn't a card with
them--no message?" His tone was vexed and he sat up.
"That's Munson's carelessness!" he said dryly.
"I can't seem to remember any card," said Aunt Jane.
A little smile broke up his face.
"You would remember it--if you had read it! I made sure of that!" He
chuckled gently.... "Never mind--I will send you another--with some more
roses."
"You don't need to send them right away--not for some time," said Aunt
Jane hastily. "These will last quite a spell. I cut the stems every day,
you know--same as if I was a patient!" Her eyes twinkled at him.
And he smiled at the round trustfulness of her face. He was vexed at
Munson for carelessness. But there was plenty of time--to send roses!
And he enjoyed sitting there and teasing her a little and watching the
guileless face, turned so comfortably upon him.... She little knew what
was on that card!
He chuckled.
"You'll be ready to go home in a day or two now," she said impersonally.
He cast a quick look at the face in its cap. "No use to borrow trouble!"
he responded lightly.... "I have some news for you!"
"For me!" A quick flush swept under the cap and subsided. "I hope it's
good news," she said tranquilly.
"Yes--It's good for you.... You'll think it's good some day! My son is
going to be married." He leaned back to watch the effect.