"Have you finished?" he asked. "Is that all?" The little irony of the words danced across to her kindly.
She sighed, and leaned back in her chair. "You made me tell you! I've never told anybody, before. I know it sounds foolish—having a home of my own!"
He got up from his chair, and went toward a big desk. Then he paused and came back and stood by her chair, with one hand on it, looking down at her.
"I never think anything you do is foolish! You know that!"
Aunt Jane jumped a little. "Well—I think I'm foolish—a good many times!"
He smiled and went over to the desk and drew out his check-book. "How much will it cost, do you suppose?" He looked over his shoulder to her.
"I could get along with a little one," she said meekly.
He smiled again, and filled in the check. "Make it ten thousand for a start." He blotted it carefully. "If it isn't enough, there's more where it came from." He patted the check-book with just a little happy touch of pride, and came across and laid the blue slip in her lap.
"It is for another woman, you know," said Medfield.
He moved across and stood by the fireplace, looking at her with frankly happy eyes.