"I'll take care of it," she said. She laid it on her lap. "Miss Canfield said you wasn't having 'em brought here any more.... I guess Preston made a mistake, maybe."
"I 'guess' he did," replied Medfield. His eye was on the box, balefully.
Aunt Jane took it up and undid it slowly. When she looked in she smiled. She took out a black-edged card and handed it to him. "She's sent another one!"
He groaned softly.
"I don't know what we'll do—if they keep coming in like this," she was fingering the blossoms tranquilly and looking at them.
He lay back on his pillows. "That's your affair!" He smiled more cheerfully. "You said I should not be bothered!" He closed his eyes.
"The Children's Ward is full," said Aunt Jane thoughtfully. "It's a regular flower-garden—every bed a posy-bed." She laughed comfortably and looked at him. "You'd ought to have seen the way they looked when they got your flowers. They were tickled most to death with 'em!"
"I am glad they enjoyed them," said Medfield tamely.
"I felt as if it was 'most a pity they couldn't know you sent 'em," she added.
He started a little and Aunt Jane put out a hand. "Don't you worry, Mr. Medfield. I didn't tell 'em. I just said it was a man—by the name of 'Herman'.... But maybe you'll get it, all the same."