"All right. There's nothing the matter--that I can find out." Dr. Carmon shrugged his shoulders a little. "Temperature normal--no change, you see." He pointed to the chart lying on the table, and ran his finger along the lines. "Pulse good. Slept like a top, Miss Canfield says." "She's to go on ward duty to-day," said Aunt Jane. He looked up quickly. "I want her!" "You said, yesterday, I could have her for the Men's Ward," replied Aunt Jane. She was looking critically at the spot on his vest and he drew his coat quickly together. "That was yesterday," he said gruffly. "I can't spare her now." Aunt Jane sighed. "It doesn't seem right for one person to have everything." "He'll have to have things--for a while," replied Dr. Carmon. "He'll have to have what he wants--till I find out what's wrong with him.... He wants Miss Canfield--and I can't take the risk of having him upset!" He spoke a little brusquely at the end. Aunt Jane's feathers ruffled themselves. "I don't know what call he has to expect to have any particular nurse!" she said. "We shall take good care of him, whatever nurse he has!" "Yes--yes--of course." Dr. Carmon was testy and placating. "But I told him he could have Miss Canfield--till he was out of bed--and she'll have to stay." "You told him--he could have Miss Canfield!" Aunt Jane's eye held something and looked at it. "When did you tell him that?" she asked at last, letting it go. "I told him yesterday--when you sent for me. "After the widow was here?" "Yes." He looked at her. "Anything wrong about that?" Dr. Carmon was not in his best humor. He felt Aunt Jane's eye boring through to the offending spot and there was subtle disapproval in her manner--something he did not quite fathom. "She'll have to stay!" he said--and the tone was final. Aunt Jane's only reply was a little chuckling laugh. He glared at her and went out. Her smile followed him from the room. She went over to the window. From the next room came the sound of voices--Miss Canfield's low and quieting, and Herman Medfield's expostulating and fretful--and then silence. Aunt Jane went across and opened the door. She looked in on Herman Medfield. He was lying with his eyes closed and an almost peaceful expression on his countenance. Miss Canfield was not in the room. He opened his eyes and saw Aunt Jane and closed them quickly. His face changed subtly and swiftly to mild distress. Aunt Jane came leisurely in. The eyes did not open or respond to her questioning look. She sat down by the bed. "Good morning," he said feebly. Aunt Jane smiled. "I didn't think it was good--not very good--not from what Dr. Carmon told me," she said slowly. Medfield sighed. "Some pain," he admitted. He turned his head restlessly. "Well, we must expect _some_ pain." Her voice was as big and breezy as all outdoors. Medfield's face relaxed under it--to a kind of meek patience. Aunt Jane watched it kindly. "What you need, Mr. Medfield, is a good wife----"