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.