"Nothing is the matter if you don't happen to see it." "I don't!" The man was silent a minute. "Sherwood Cawein died of a broken heart," he said at last. The boy stared. Then the look in his face broke and danced. "I was not thinking of Mrs. Cawein," he said quietly. "You were not speaking of Julia Cawein?" His father sat up, his hands on the arms of his chair, and looked at him. "No, I was not thinking of Mrs. Cawein. I'll tell you some day, Father, what I was thinking of. But--" he looked at him straight. "I'd like you to trust me a little if you will, please." XXVII "I'm not going to bed!" said Medfield irritably. "I don't want to lie down. I'm tired of lying down!" He looked out of the window and scowled. The nurse was silent a minute, regarding him thoughtfully. Then she laid a light, cool hand on his wrist and her fingers found the pulse and held it. "There's nothing the matter!" he said crossly. "No, there doesn't seem to be." She released his wrist and went quietly out. The millionaire's eyes followed her.... A shrewd flash came into them. The little annoyance had left his face; it had the keen, concentrated look that men who knew Herman Medfield did not care to see on his face--if they had business with him. It was the look that meant he was on the track of something or somebody. He reached out to the bell. Miss Canfield came. She waited with an inquiring look. "I should like to see Mrs. Holbrook," said Medfield politely. "Aunt Jane?" The nurse hesitated. "She's in the Children's Ward. Is it something that can wait--or something I can do for you, sir?" Her face was troubled. He smiled at her reassuringly. "I want to see Aunt Jane-- She will come, I think--if you tell her." He settled back comfortably in his chair and waited. He did not look up when Aunt Jane came in. His head rested against the chair and his face was drawn in the look of pathetic distress and helplessness that calls for pity. Aunt Jane took in the look with kindly glance. "You've been having too much company," she said. "I do feel rather done up," admitted Medfield weakly. "Well, you better go right to bed--" Aunt Jane moved toward the door of the adjoining room. "I'm not going to bed," said Medfield. Aunt Jane stood arrested---- "I want the doctor," added Medfield warily. "I'll send for him--soon as you get in," she said placidly. "You come right along." "No." He put his hands on the arms of the chair and looked at her like a spoiled child. Aunt Jane regarded him calmly. She went into the corridor and sent word for Miss Canfield to come to her office. Then she went on to the office and took up the receiver and called Dr. Carmon's number; and stood waiting, with bent head, her cap strings reflective. The head lifted itself--and her face focussed to the little black cup on the desk before her. "It's about Mr. Medfield--Herman G. Medfield--yes." She said it severely into the blackness. "He won't do as he's told!"