"But he don't know me," said the woman. "Unless maybe he knows John!" she added thoughtfully.
"That's it," Aunt Jane responded. "Maybe he knows 'John.' Anyway he's going to pay." She touched a bell.
"Well—" The woman looked down at the hands in her lap, the fingers were working in and out. "I'm sure I don't know how to thank him!" she said. She looked up. Her eyes were full of tears. She brushed a quick hand across them. "I don't know how!" she said softly.
"You don't need to thank him," replied Aunt Jane. "He won't expect any thanks, I guess."
A nurse stood in the door. Aunt Jane's hand motioned to the woman. "This is Mrs. Pelton. She's going to be in Room 5. Take good care of her."
The nurse held out her hand with a smile. And the little woman got up. "I've got a bag here somewhere—? That's it—yes. Thank you! I seem all kind of upset, somehow. I didn't know a hospital would be like this!"
Aunt Jane watched her with a smile as she went from the room. There was a gentle look in her eyes. Then she got up, with the card in her hand, and moved toward the front room. She had become serene and austere.
A tall, thin man rose courteously. "I am Dr. Carmon's patient. I understand a room has been reserved for me?" He looked up.
"There's a room, yes," admitted Aunt Jane.
The man's face waited. There was astonishment and a little amusement under its polite gaze.