Medfield's eye rested on him and then on Miss Canfield. His face cleared. He motioned to her. "I want my son to see that catalogue that came this morning--the rose catalogue, you know. Will you show it to him, please. It's in the other room." She started toward the door. "I will bring it." But he held up a hand. "No, I don't want it in here. I'm tired." He turned to Julian. "It's the catalogue of foreign roses, from Rotterdam--the firm that Munson orders from. He wants to send in orders for fall delivery--right away. I looked it over and made out a list.... I showed Miss Canfield. She understands----" He closed his eyes. "I think I'll rest a few minutes," he said. "She'll show the list to you and tell you what I said, and you can give it to Munson to-night. Don't forget it." He waved them away and lay with closed eyes.... Presently he opened his eyes and smiled a little.... Through the open door he could see two heads bending over the catalogue. The murmur of voices came to him soothingly. He drew a sigh.... It was almost as if the boy were stupid! A girl like that--one in a thousand--right before him, every day for over a week now!... He lay listening to the voices--there were long silences, it seemed to him, and pauses.... The heads had moved a little. He could not see them and the gaps of silence irritated him.... His thoughts ran back to his own youth. _He_ had not been backward! He held it with a flitting smile. In less than two weeks from the day he met her, she had promised to marry him.... Young people nowadays had no spirit--no fire! He fumed a little. It would probably take Julian six months to discover that the girl was even pretty!... He could not lie in bed six months, waiting for his son to get his eyes open! He rang the bell impatiently and Miss Canfield came to the door. She glanced at the glass on the stand beside him. "You have not taken your medicine!" He looked at it guiltily. "I forgot.... Did you make out the list?" "Partly." She hesitated, and he fancied that a little fine flush crept along under the transparent skin. "I don't believe I remembered all you said about them." "Never mind!" He was magnanimous and suddenly cheerful. "I'll go over them again to-morrow.... And I'd like you to see the place where they are to be put." He was speaking slowly. "I think you might help me--if it isn't too much trouble----" She looked at him questioningly. "My rose garden, I mean," said Medfield. "Oh--!" The little fine flush swept up again. He watched it with satisfaction. "Julian has never taken much interest in the garden," said Medfield. "He doesn't know one rose from another." "No--?" She was busy with the glass on the stand. "But women have a kind of instinct about such things." He was impersonal and gallant; and the little shadow of disturbance left her face. She moved about, making him comfortable. "I wish you would ask my son to come here," said Medfield.