She smiled and nodded and came to a full stop by the big table in the centre of the ward. She laid her armful of flowers carefully on the table and turned to the tray. The room was in a joyful bubble. "Where did they come from? Look at the roses. My!" They reached out hands to her--"Where'd they come from, Aunt Jane?"... "Who sent them to us?"... "My! Look at the vi'lets!" She smiled and heaped the blossoms on the table and disclosed the three boxes beneath. There was a hush of expectancy. There were always flowers in the ward--a bunch or two here and there--but not such a feast as these! They waited, impatient. Aunt Jane took her time. She polished her glasses and returned them to her nose and adjusted them carefully. Then she took up one of the boxes and read the florist's name printed on the top--"J. L. Parker & Co. He always sends nice flowers," she said heartily. "Did he send them to us?" "Well, they came from his greenhouse. He raised them--planted them and took care of them, and so on." Her fingers were busy with the tape, untying it. "But another man _sent_ them--a man by the name of--Herman." "Mr. Herman sent them!" They waited. She lifted the cover and held out the box and a little cry went up from the ward, half repressed and full of awed delight.... It was a happy thing to see a great trayful of blossoms come rolling in; and it was a still more beautiful thing to have the cover lifted from the box, and all that color and fragrance leap out! They watched with eager eyes. Aunt Jane lifted a card from the top of the flowers and looked at it and tucked it away in the pocket of her big apron. The card had a narrow black edge. "What did it say, Aunt Jane? What was on it?" Aunt Jane looked at them over her glasses. "Just the name," she said. "The name of the one that sent them. People always send names with flowers, don't they?" She lifted a handful of the blossoms and shook them loose till they filled and overflowed the box. "They send names--so you'll know who it was sent them." "Mr. Herman sent these, didn't he?" "Yes, Mr. Herman sent them and you're going to each have one for your own. I'm going to let you choose." There was laughing and chatter and a happy stir as Aunt Jane carried the boxes from bed to bed. She watched the hands reach to the choosing--and hesitate--and the eyes fill with light--and little smiles come as they sank back contented.... She had a sudden glimpse of Herman Medfield in his blue-and-gold Chinese coat, waving them away. "Seems a pity he can't see them," she thought, watching the faces. "They're all different--just as different as the flowers be!"