She was speaking over her shoulder to him and she leaned back smilingly. "Would you mind, Julian, getting my bag for me? I left it in the car-- So stupid of me!" "With pleasure." The young man went toward the door. He glanced casually as he passed her at the chair she sat so airily upon. There was a little smile on his lips as he closed the door. XXVI The widow's eyes followed him. "He is a dear boy," she said, with a motherly glance at the softly closing door. Then her look changed and she leaned forward and touched the bowl of forget-me-nots with lightest finger-tip. "Mine?" she said archly. "If you would like them," said the millionaire graciously. "Naughty man!" She shook the finger at him and then pointed it at the forget-me-nots. "Who sent them to you?" Her chin tilted the question. He regarded it gravely. "A woman sent them," he said. She nodded and the little jets dingled at him. "This woman?" She placed the finger on her chest and looked at him reproachfully. The millionaire's look broke in startled confusion. He glanced swiftly at the flowers. "Why--yes--of course!... I ought to have thanked you.... But--I have not been well, you know." He smiled whimsically. She motioned it aside. "I don't mind being thanked--so long as you got them!" Her eyes travelled about the room. "They are the only ones you have!" she said reflectively. The millionaire's glance followed hers. "There were--others," he said vaguely. "But you have not kept them!" She leaned forward. "No." He admitted it. "These are the only ones--" she paused, looking at them pensively. "You don't know how happy you make me!" she said--and sighed it away. "I am glad to have pleased you," responded the millionaire feebly. "You don't know--" she touched the flowers as if they were something precious that must not be disturbed. "You--don't know how happy--you make me!" The millionaire glanced uneasily about. The door opened and Julian flashed in. "I say! I couldn't find your bag, you know!" "Never mind!" She was sweet with it. "Perhaps I didn't bring it, after all." "You don't think it is possibly--in your chair," he suggested, smiling a little. He had come over and was standing quite close to her. She glanced at him deprecatingly. "How clever in you, Julian!" Her hand groped in the chair for the bag and found it--and she held it out, laughing at her mistake. The two men smiled. "So stupid--in me!" She took out a tiny handkerchief and shook it and the faintest scent of violets flew about the room. The door opened. It was Miss Canfield, with a glass of water on a small round tray. She came across to the millionaire. "It is medicine time," she said quietly. The millionaire drank it off and returned the glass to the tray and thanked her. She looked down at him. "Is there anything else--you would like?" There was a clear, faint color in her cheeks, like a rose-leaf. The widow's eye rested on it. "Nothing, thank you," said Medfield.