"Mary Canfield has money--more money than most folks. She's going to make a good nurse, though. She came in and took the training as if she hadn't a cent to her name--She said she wanted to be something besides Sheldon Canfield's----" "Sheldon Canfield!" He took it up. "Was Sheldon Canfield her father?" "His name was Sheldon," said Aunt Jane. "Maybe you've heard of him?" Herman Medfield laughed shortly. "He did me out of a million dollars! Sheldon Canfield!" He looked at the thought and shook it. "I fought him for ten years. I swore I would break him before I died-- But _he_ died first! Sheldon Canfield's daughter!" He held it before him. "So Sheldon Canfield's daughter has been taking care of _me_!" "She's taken good care of you!" said Aunt Jane. It was almost defensive; and he gave her a quick look. "The best of care!" he said emphatically. "Couldn't have been better--unless you had done it yourself," he ended gallantly. Aunt Jane's look cleared, and then became a little confused--under something that danced in the eyes bent upon her. "I must go do my work," she said. "And leave me to my Juliet?" "Julian, I suppose you mean," Aunt Jane corrected him kindly. "He's Romeo--of the house of Montague!" he said dreamily. She stared a little. He waved a hand. "Go away, Aunt Jane, and do your work. You have disturbed me--even more than usual. I want to collect my thoughts!" She went out almost soberly, turning it in her mind, on the way to her office. She had upset him and she was a little remorseful! She ought not to have let him run on like that! There was no telling that he would not have a setback.... And they needed Suite A for Dr. Carmon's new patient Friday.... He had said Herman Medfield was well enough to go home--that he would be better off at home. She entered the office--and stopped. On a chair across the room, was a long, light box. Aunt Jane almost fancied she had been dreaming, and had never opened that box.... She contemplated it and went over to it slowly--and looked at her desk, where the great flaming roses gave out their fragrance.... She went back to the box and took it up slowly, and undid the tape. It was filled to the brim with roses--great pink-and-white heads glowed through the transparent waxed paper at her--and on top of the paper lay a card--with the name uppermost---- "Dr. Frederic H. Carmon." Aunt Jane stared at it. She reached out a hand to it--as if fascinated and almost afraid--and took it up and turned it over slowly.... There was no writing! She laid it back with a little quick sigh of relief--and stared down at it.... Presently a shrewd look of amusement overspread the stupefaction in her face and she nodded to the little card and took it up and carried it to her desk and unlocked a drawer--moving the great flaming roses to reach it. She dropped the card beside the other one that lay there--and the amusement in her face grew to soft chuckles that filled all the spaces in her roundness.