"I'm insured for—" He stopped.
She nodded. "That wasn't what I meant—but it will do. Whatever you're insured for—you're worth it, I guess." She paused and regarded him doubtfully.... "You're probably worth as much as you are insured for—" Her look considered it, and let it go.... "Whatever it is, we've saved it for you—among us. We've given you the best care we knew how.... You've had good care, haven't you?" She bent a solicitous look on him.
"The best of care," he said courteously. Then, after a minute: "Money could not pay for it—the kind of care you have given.... I have not forgotten the night—when I went down into the dark—and you held me." He was looking at something deep and quiet—then his gaze turned to her.
Aunt Jane returned it a minute—and looked away.... There was something in the face of the millionaire that she had not seen in it before. She got up and went to the window. "Looks as if it would be a good day to-morrow," she murmured.
She straightened the curtains a little and shook them out and came leisurely back. She glanced at the forget-me-nots.
"What I meant was," she said slowly, "some folks get big bills when they're here—and some folks get little ones, and some don't get any. It depends on what the Lord has given 'em; and we mean to take good care of 'em all."
He smiled. "Well—the Lord has given me plenty. I ought not to complain!"
"I didn't expect you would complain," said Aunt Jane. "I put it in the bill under Suite A—enough for two. And I told Dr. Carmon to make his bill big enough for two—I guess he'll do it. He's a pretty sensible man." She rocked placidly.
Herman Medfield relaxed a little and looked at her whimsically. "It's a human way to do," he said thoughtfully. "And I do get something for my money. This is a pleasant room."
"It's pleasant enough. But I've thought a good many times it's a pity you can't be in the ward."