"I wouldn't be too happy--not the first day or so," she said softly. "Do you mean to spoil it?" He came and stood by the fire and looked down at her sternly. "No--I shan't spoil anything--" A crash of thunder filled the air, and the room grew dark. Little sulphurous lights played in it--and withdrew, dancing across the potted plants. "Here's your tea!" said Aunt Jane out of the subsiding din. "Put it here, Henry." Medfield rolled a little table in front of Aunt Jane and watched the man as he set it down. He ran an eye over the tray---- "That's all right. I'll set it out. You draw the curtains and light the candles." He motioned the man aside and arranged the dishes himself, setting the toast in front of the fire and placing the cups and plates with swift touch. "There you are!" He had taken the chair opposite her and he looked across with happy eyes. "This is all right!" he said. The man had left the room; the crashing thunder was shut behind the heavy curtains, the candles shone down on them, and the firelight played across the table. It shone on Aunt Jane's face. "You have a nice home," she said safely. She lifted a napkin from her plate. "Mercy--what's this!" She peered at the thin blue strip of paper that fluttered from under the napkin. She took it up and read it--and laid it down hastily. "It's for the wing!" she said. He nodded quietly, watching her. "You guessed right--the first time!" Her face looking down at the check was thoughtful and sweet. "Are you going to pour my tea?" said Medfield. XLI "Ah!--This is comfortable!" He had taken his tea from her and was sipping it slowly. He looked about the great room, lighted with high candles in the massive silver sticks, and at the soft folds of curtains that shut out the storm. "You don't know what a lonely place it is!-- With no one here!" He shivered, and then looked contentedly at Aunt Jane drinking her tea. "Places generally _are_ lonely," she responded. "It takes folks--not to be lonely.... Most of us _need_ folks, I guess." "_I_ need them!" said Medfield emphatically. "And I didn't know it--how lonely I was.... I knew I was beastly unhappy!" He leaned forward and seemed to be looking at his unhappiness in the fire that glowed on the hearth and danced in the flames and flew away up the chimney. "That's over!" he said. He leaned back happily in his chair, watching the flames. "Yes. You're going to have a family now----" He turned on her with a little amused stare. She nodded. "You'll have Julian here, and Mary Canfield----" "Oh--Romeo and Juliet!" The tone dismissed the youthful lovers, and laughed at her. Aunt Jane received it. "They're only two--I know--and two isn't a family--exactly--but there'll be little ones--you see! They'll be all over the place, I expect." Her eyes seemed to be watching the children playing in the great room. "They'll look nice, won't they!"