"The one telling you I was--here." The boy shook his head. "I got Ballantine's cable, and took the next boat." "I didn't know Ballantine cabled," said Medfield thoughtfully. "It came ten days ago--the thirtieth, wasn't it--just as I was starting for Norway. I'm pretty glad it didn't miss me!"--They sat quiet a minute. Then the boy looked at him. "You're looking fine, sir!" "I'm all right! Doing splendidly!" He felt suddenly that he could let his pains go. The house across the town was not so empty, after all. He had a sudden vision of Julian running up the long stairs--two at a time--and he looked at him happily. The boy leaned forward. His eye fell on the black-edged card; he looked at it and smiled and half reached out a hand, incredulous. "How is--" He hesitated. He had always been afraid of his father. But the man on the pillows was, somehow, a different sort of father; he leaned forward with a swift twinkle at the card. "How is the--widow?" he asked. "Very well, I suppose," said Medfield. "It is some time since I saw her." He spoke a little formally. But his heart leaped at the touch of comradeship. "How about this?" said Julian. He touched the black-edged card. Herman Medfield's face flushed--almost guiltily. "Flowers," he said. "I say!" The boy whistled softly. Then he laughed. "I say!" He put down the card and looked at it. "Three boxes!" acknowledged Medfield. The boy held out his hand. "Would you mind shaking hands, sir?" Herman Medfield took the hand, laughing a little, and his eyes filled with quiet pride and happiness. "I am glad you've come home, Julian." "Looks to me about time!" said the youth. He glanced again at the card and chuckled. Then he stood up. It was Miss Canfield for the tray. She came around to the other side of the bed; and Herman Medfield looked up at her--and glanced from her to his boy. "This is my son, Julian, Miss Canfield." He was watching the two faces that confronted each other across the bed. The young man's had lighted with a little look of admiration. He held out his hand across the bed. "It's a long-distance introduction, isn't it?" The girl took the hand quietly. "How do you do, Mr. Herman," she said pleasantly. "I'm glad to meet you," said Julian out of a puzzled look; and the two hands fell apart. Herman Medfield flashed a twinkle at her. "His name is not Herman," he remarked dryly. "Nor mine," he added after a minute. "'Herman' is for the hospital-- Aunt Jane invented it." "I see." The girl held it. "I wondered a little----" "Don't let anybody else wonder," said Medfield. "I want to get rid of myself--for a while." The young man smiled whimsically. "Where do I come in, sir?" "You stay where you are," said his father tolerantly. "You're well enough as it is--if you behave!" He was looking with satisfaction from his son to the young girl. She had turned to the tray and her fingers were busy with the dishes.