"Why—'Mr. Herman,' I told her.... You know about Mr. Herman?" She looked at him.
"Yes," meekly.
"I told her about him. So she's feeling thankful to him." Her eyes twinkled a little.
"But why should she send flowers to me?" He looked at her almost suspiciously, as if he had caught her.
Aunt Jane shook her head reprovingly. "She sent them to you because you happened to come the same day she did. She saw you through the door whilst she was waiting for me to come in, and it made her feel acquainted with you, coming the same day—so—and both having suffering to go through with—— There, they look nice, don't they!" She gave a final touch to them and sat down.
He glanced at them grudgingly.
"I'll take them out if you say so—if you'd rather not have them?"
"No, leave them.... I—want them." The words came almost quickly.
"I thought you'd like them," she said placidly, "when you'd made up your mind to it. It's hard for any one to make up his mind sometimes."
The millionaire was looking at the flowers. "I've been thinking about what you told me this morning," he motioned to the bowl of forget-me-nots, "—about Mrs. Pelton.... This hospital business must be a big bill for a workingman to meet.... I was wondering if it couldn't be arranged so that I could pay—without their knowing, of course," he added hastily.