Herman Medfield laughed shortly. "He did me out of a million dollars! Sheldon Canfield!" He looked at the thought and shook it. "I fought him for ten years. I swore I would break him before I died— But he died first! Sheldon Canfield's daughter!" He held it before him. "So Sheldon Canfield's daughter has been taking care of me!"
"She's taken good care of you!" said Aunt Jane. It was almost defensive; and he gave her a quick look.
"The best of care!" he said emphatically. "Couldn't have been better—unless you had done it yourself," he ended gallantly.
Aunt Jane's look cleared, and then became a little confused—under something that danced in the eyes bent upon her.
"I must go do my work," she said.
"And leave me to my Juliet?"
"Julian, I suppose you mean," Aunt Jane corrected him kindly.
"He's Romeo—of the house of Montague!" he said dreamily.
She stared a little. He waved a hand.