He shook his head. "I wasn't thinking of Julian and Mary--nor of children-- Never mind!" He put it aside. "I'll tell you sometime." Aunt Jane had taken up the check from beside her plate, and was folding it in slow fingers. "You don't know what that is going to do," she said slowly. "But I can see it--plain as if I was right there now--the folks that will get well with this, and be like folks again!... It's hard to be poor!" She opened the bag that hung at her side, and put in the check, and closed it softly. He sat up and leaned an elbow on the table, resting his head on it and looking across to her under the shading hand. "There's one thing I wanted to ask you." "Yes?" Aunt Jane's response was veiled. But the good-will in her face shone through. "I'll tell you anything I can. There's a good many things I don't know." Her cap was whimsical. "You know this!" He laughed. "It's about your old hospital!" He motioned toward the little bag with its check. "Oh--I know the hospital-- It's 'most all I do know!" "You feel as if you owned it, don't you!" His tone teased her gently. Then he left it--and leaned forward---- "What I was thinking was this: Isn't there something that you would like for the hospital--not just contagion--not a whole wingful!" He twinkled at it. "But something you have seen that is needed. Isn't there something?" He folded his arms on the table, and looked across the teacups at the thoughtful little lines that came and went in her face. "Is there?" he said. The lines took it in--and held it wistfully. "You don't mean tea-strainers and such things--you mean something worth while?" He nodded. "Something worth while, yes. I mean anything.... Think of it--not for yourself, perhaps--" His face grew intent. "Think of it as if some other woman were there." Aunt Jane sat up. "I can't hardly think of any other woman running my hospital!" she said dryly. He waved it off. "But if there were?" She accepted it. "Well--if there was--there's one thing she could make a good deal of use of--if she had it. I've thought about it----" "Yes-- That's what I want!" "It's expensive," said Aunt Jane. "We can talk about that later." She sighed. "It seems kind of ridiculous!... I don't suppose you'll understand, maybe?" She looked up at him. "I'll try--I don't think there are many things you could say that I should not understand," he said softly. Aunt Jane's glance hastily sought the teacups. "It's a kind of little home for me." She looked at him as if begging him not to make fun of her. "You don't mean you want to leave your hospital!" It was half amused and wholly alert, and the question darted at her. She caught it with a quick shake of the muslin cap. "I don't ever want to live anywhere except in the House of Mercy," she said. "Oh!" The crestfallen word slipped across to her, and Aunt Jane's face relaxed. "It's kind of a wing I was thinking of----" "But I gave you your wing!"