"I am glad you liked them." He was suddenly a little formal and polite. He had not expected quite such frank and open delight in his offering. "And the card--" he said softly, after a minute. "I hoped you liked that, too?" He was almost shy about it! Aunt Jane looked at him inquiringly and rocked a little. "Was there a card--?" She seemed considering it. "Maybe it got lost out." She shook her head. The shadow crossed his face. "You're sure there wasn't a card with them--no message?" His tone was vexed and he sat up. "That's Munson's carelessness!" he said dryly. "I can't seem to remember any card," said Aunt Jane. A little smile broke up his face. "You would remember it--if you had read it! I made sure of that!" He chuckled gently.... "Never mind--I will send you another--with some more roses." "You don't need to send them right away--not for some time," said Aunt Jane hastily. "These will last quite a spell. I cut the stems every day, you know--same as if I was a patient!" Her eyes twinkled at him. And he smiled at the round trustfulness of her face. He was vexed at Munson for carelessness. But there was plenty of time--to send roses! And he enjoyed sitting there and teasing her a little and watching the guileless face, turned so comfortably upon him.... She little knew what was on that card! He chuckled. "You'll be ready to go home in a day or two now," she said impersonally. He cast a quick look at the face in its cap. "No use to borrow trouble!" he responded lightly.... "I have some news for you!" "For me!" A quick flush swept under the cap and subsided. "I hope it's good news," she said tranquilly. "Yes--It's good for you.... You'll think it's good some day! My son is going to be married." He leaned back to watch the effect. She nodded. "We talked about that yesterday." "But it hadn't happened then!" "Hadn't it?" There was no contradiction in the response. But it brought him to a sudden pause. "Why--of course not! I don't believe it had! Do you know anything?" He turned on her swiftly. "No, I don't know anything." Aunt Jane was cheerful. "Not anything I could put my finger on," she added slowly. "But I kind of sensed, somehow, that they'd got things settled--between 'em." "Oh, you 'sensed'!" he scoffed gently. "Well--she'll make him a good wife," Aunt Jane rocked. "Of course, he don't need a rich wife----" "No, I don't want him to marry money!" Medfield spoke with satisfaction. His magnanimity overspread the poverty of his son's wife--and welcomed it and exulted in it. Aunt Jane's face was tranquil--and somewhere deep below, little twinkles came up to the surface and stirred it. "Well, he doesn't need to marry her money--" she said slowly. "He can't help her having it, of course. But she'll make him just as good a wife." He stared. "I must have given you a wrong impression." He was polite about it. "Julian is going to marry Miss Canfield."