Aunt Jane was silent a minute. Then, a little guiltily, she looked at him. "You have paid already," she said.
He had been looking dreamily before him, pleased with Aunt Jane, and with the flowers—and with himself—pleased with everybody. He moved irritably and stared.
She nodded, the little wrinkles gathering about her eyes. "I didn't mean that you should find it out—not right off.... But it's just as well, I guess."
"What do you mean?"
"Well." She rocked a little. "She was kind of anxious—the day she came, you know.... I see, as soon as I came into the room that she was worrying—" Aunt Jane rocked placidly, looking back to Mrs. Pelton's worrying face. "Pretty soon it came out—they hadn't got the money; and she'd been just drove to come—as you might say—Dr. Carmon makes 'em come whether they want to or not, you know?" She looked at him inquiringly over her glasses.
"Yes, I know." The words were remote and dry.
Aunt Jane smiled a little. "And just then I caught sight of you through the door, and your coat lying on a chair—it was a silk-lined coat, you know—your clothes are all pretty good." She looked at him with satisfaction.
A glint of amusement crossed the remote face.
"So it came to me, then and there, just the way the things do—the right ones, when you're bothering—and I said to her that you were going to pay for her."