"I reckoned it would," said Aunt Jane. "Now I'll go get your broth for you." She disappeared from the room and Herman Medfield's eyes closed--and opened again to find her standing beside him, the cup of broth in her hand. She gave it to him through the crooked tube and watched the liquid lower in the cup with benignant eye. "Just a little mite more," she said as he turned away his head--"Just a mite. There! You've done first-rate!" She set the cup on the stand. "Now I'm going to take all these flowers--" she gathered the carnations in her hands as she spoke: "I was thinking about it whilst I was heating your broth for you--I'm going to take them up to the Children's Ward. They'll be happy enough--when they see 'em!" She held the flowers at arm's length and looked at them with pleased eyes. He watched her with a faint smile and a look almost of interest. "And I'm going to tell them that Mr. Medfield sent them----" He raised a quick hand. "No----!" She turned in surprise. "Don't you want me to tell them?" "No." He waited a minute. "You can say a man sent them." "Yes, I can say that--" Aunt Jane's face cleared. "I see how 'tis-- You don't want them to know about you--who you are." "No." He was looking almost embarrassed. She considered it a minute. "What is your first name?" she asked. He cleared his throat like a boy. "Herman," he said meekly. "Herman G. Medfield." Aunt Jane smiled. "I remember about it now--'Herman,'" she said it softly, as if it pleased her. "Herman-- That'll do! We don't need the G.--just Herman.... I'll tell them Mr. Herman sent them." She smiled at him cheerfully. "Very well." Aunt Jane went over to the window and gathered up the foxgloves--as many as her hands could hold--and turned to the door. "I'll come back for the rest." But the door had opened and the white-coated boy was standing, holding out three large boxes and grinning pleasantly. Herman Medfield, from his pillow, groaned. Aunt Jane glanced toward him with reassurance in her look--"I shall take them all-- You don't need to worry. You won't be bothered. You go get the wheel-tray, Preston, and we'll take 'em all at once." They filled the cart--the three great boxes underneath and the loose flowers on top covering them and trailing over the sides and ends: and Preston wheeled it out the door. Aunt Jane, still with her hands full of blossoms, looked back with a smile. "Now you'll rest comfortable," she said. XVIII When the wheel-tray appeared in the door of the Children's Ward and Aunt Jane--with her arms overflowing--close behind it, there was silence for a breath, and then a cry---- "Look there!" "My goodness!" "See the flowers!" They leaned forward with eager hands, or raised themselves on a hand or elbow, as she went down between the beds, pushing the wheel-tray before her.