A burst of light and color greeted her. The shades were rolled to the tops of the windows. And there were flowers everywhere.... Roses on the table, a great bunch of carnations on the desk, violets on the stand at the head of Herman Medfield's bed, foxgloves and snapdragons filling the window-sill and spilling over into the room. It was a riot of color; and in the midst of it, propped on his pillows on the high white bed, the millionaire looked out with a scowl.
He wore an embroidered Chinese shoulder coat of blue and gold; and his hair, carefully combed, stood up a little on his forehead. The Vandyke beard was clipped to a point.
"You look pretty as a picture," said Aunt Jane cheerfully.
The scowl deepened a little—then it broke. "Will you sit down?" said Medfield politely.
Aunt Jane drew up a chair.
He watched her descend into it and his brow cleared. "I have been wanting to see you."
Aunt Jane nodded. "I've been meaning to come. There's a good many things to do in a hospital." The chair adjusted itself—"Was it anything in particular you wanted to ask me about?"
The millionaire's eyes had been resting on the quiet face. They turned away, a little startled. "Why—um—yes! I was thinking—I was thinking—" His eyes fell on the roses and he swept a hand toward them. "These flowers—all of them!" he said.
Aunt Jane turned a little in her chair and beamed. "They look nice, don't they?"