She came calmly in. "I went home with Mr. Medfield." She took up the little tablet slate on her desk and consulted it absently. "He needed me—he thought he needed me."
"What for?" The tone was brusque. "He was well enough when I saw him. Couldn't he go home without upsetting the whole hospital!"
"He didn't like to go without me," said Aunt Jane. "In fact, he wouldn't go," she added. She put down the little tablet. "I'm sorry you needed me.... I don't very often go out."
"Well"—his tone was mollified—"we managed to pull through without you. But I like to feel you're around—when I need you."
"I generally mean to be," she said placidly.
He glanced at her suspiciously. She was unusually meek.
"What have you been doing all the afternoon? It didn't take four hours to go out to Medfield's place and back!"
"We had tea—and we talked some."
"Umph! Well, we've got him off our hands!"
"Yes—we've got him off our hands," assented Aunt Jane. "He's a good man," she added.