She gathered the child in her arms and carried her to her bed and put her down gently. Then her hands caught up the tumbled hair and fastened it in place and smoothed it down, and she came placidly back to Dr. Carmon. His face was very grave. But something in behind his eyes laughed. He held out the cap with a low bow. She took it and put it on her head, with dignity, and looked for her spectacles. "They're on the table," said Dr. Carmon. He handed them to her and she put them on and gazed at him in serene competence. "I'll send Miss Simpson up to you--I suppose you'll want her," she said. "Yes--_please_," said Dr. Carmon, polite and grave. Aunt Jane hesitated a second. Then her hand motioned to the beds. "The Lord never see fit to let me have any of my own--not to grow up.... I've always thought he was making it up to me this way," she said, and there was something almost like an appeal in the quiet words. The doctor looked at her, and then at the children's faces. "I should say he's making it up to _them_," he said gruffly. He watched the serene figure as it passed through the swinging doors.... His face, as he went among the children and questioned them and listened absently to their replies, was full of gentleness and kindness, and a little, shy, flitting happiness that beamed on them. XIX The cards Aunt Jane had taken from the boxes of flowers remained untouched in her apron pocket. She had intended to take them to Herman Medfield at once. But the days that followed the flowers in the Children's Ward had been busy ones. Serious cases had come in and Dr. Carmon's face had been severe and a little anxious. No one would have guessed from its puckered gaze as he looked at Aunt Jane and gave minute directions for the case in Room 18 that he had ever seen the correct muslin cap except as it looked now, framing her serene face. He gazed at it absently and fussed at his pocket and took out his notes and consulted them. "I am to be sent for, you understand, if there is the slightest change!" He looked at her severely. "We'll send for you," said Aunt Jane quietly, "same as we always do." There was a tap on the office door and she went leisurely across to open it. It was the laundress with three cards in her wet thumb. She half drew back as she caught a glimpse of Dr. Carmon's bulky form. "I found 'em in the pocket of your apron," she announced in a stage whisper. "They got a little mite wet, but I dried 'em off." Aunt Jane received the cards and returned to Dr. Carmon. He glanced at them inquiringly. "Some cards that came with flowers." She laid them on her desk. "Somebody been sending you flowers!" He relaxed a little over the joke. "Mr. Medfield's flowers," said Aunt Jane tranquilly. His pencil stopped and he regarded the cards stiffly. "How many cards does he send you with flowers?" he asked. Aunt Jane smiled. "He didn't send them. They came with some flowers for _him_."