"You've forgotten your bonnet," he laughed.
"Oh—I don't need a bonnet." She went slowly down the steps. "I never wear a bonnet when I go with a patient." She looked back to him. "You want me to help you?"
He came quickly down with a laugh and placed her in the car. "I don't want anything—except to get home!" he said exultantly.
The chauffeur slammed the door.
Aunt Jane beamed on her patient. "I thought you'd be ready to go—when the time came," she said philosophically.
"I'm happy. I don't want anything but what I've got—right here!" He was looking at the face in its cap.
Aunt Jane transferred her gaze to the window, watching the houses slide by, and the long, smooth roll of streets. "I do like a car!" she declared with a sigh. "I always feel as if I owned the whole earth when I go in a car—kind of on top, you know!"
And the car bore her onward without a jolt or jar, as she sat competently erect; and Herman Medfield, leaning back against the cushions, relaxed to the motion, and watched her pleasure, happily.... There were many things he could give her. He was glad he was a rich man.
The car flashed them through the maze of streets and in through the great gate that formed the entrance to the Medfield estate; and Aunt Jane looked out, with pleased eyes, on trees and shrubs and on a wide soft greenness of turf, and little open vistas shining out as they passed them. "I always heard it was a nice place!" she said contentedly.
"I knew you would like it!" replied Medfield.