"Where have you been, all the afternoon!" Dr. Carmon was fuming in the office. He got up as Aunt Jane came in.

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "I've needed you! They looked everywhere for you!"

She came calmly in. "I went home with Mr. Medfield." She took up the little tablet slate on her desk and consulted it absently. "He needed me—he thought he needed me."

"What for?" The tone was brusque. "He was well enough when I saw him. Couldn't he go home without upsetting the whole hospital!"

"He didn't like to go without me," said Aunt Jane. "In fact, he wouldn't go," she added. She put down the little tablet. "I'm sorry you needed me.... I don't very often go out."

"Well"—his tone was mollified—"we managed to pull through without you. But I like to feel you're around—when I need you."

"I generally mean to be," she said placidly.

He glanced at her suspiciously. She was unusually meek.

"What have you been doing all the afternoon? It didn't take four hours to go out to Medfield's place and back!"

"We had tea—and we talked some."

"Umph! Well, we've got him off our hands!"

"Yes—we've got him off our hands," assented Aunt Jane. "He's a good man," she added.

"He's got money," said Dr. Carmon, without enthusiasm. "I never heard of his doing much good with it."

She opened her little bag and took out the two blue slips and looked at them. Then she returned one of them to the bag and handed the other to him, without comment.

He received it blankly and read it—and readjusted his glasses and read it again. He took off the glasses and held them in the tight clutch of one hand, resting on his knee, and surveyed her keenly.

"I suppose you know what it is!"

"Fifty thousand," she said meekly.

"He's given you fifty thousand dollars!" He shook the little blue slip scornfully.

"It isn't for me— It's for us!"

"What!" he said sharply. He put on his glasses again. "For the hospital, is it?" He took it up.

She nodded. "For the new contagion wing."

"We need it badly enough!" He fingered the check absently. "I didn't suppose we should ever have it, though!"

"I told him we needed it," she said casually.

"You begged it of him, I suppose!" A little trace of annoyance ran in the words.

She received it equably. "I didn't do any begging, I guess. I just told him we wanted it."

"So he handed it out!"

"Well—not right then. He said he'd think it over— He gave it to me this afternoon. Put it on my plate—for a kind of surprise." She was looking at something and smiling mistily at it.

He watched her uneasily.

"He's a nice man!" she said, meeting the glance he bent upon her.

"You're tired," he responded abruptly.

"I am—a little mite tired."

He got up and opened his bag and fussed at bottles and shook something into a bit of folded paper and held it out.

"There—take that."

"I don't need it!"

"You take it!"

She accepted it meekly, and he brought a glass of water from behind the screen, and watched her drink it.

"Everybody seems to think you can chase all over town for them!" he grumbled.

"It was quite a nice ride out there," replied Aunt Jane. She wiped the taste of medicine furtively from her lips and set down the glass.

"He's going to give me a little home, too."

"What!" He glared at her fiercely.

She took hold of her bag—as if to protect something. "I knew you wouldn't like it!" she said. "I hated to tell you! I thought maybe I'd put it off ... not tell you for a good while."

"If you will tell me now—and not sit there gibbering and chattering——"

She nodded. "Yes—I'd better do it to-night—right off—and get it done with!" She opened the bag slowly. "Of course, I know you won't want me to have it—" She looked at him doubtfully, holding on to the bit of paper.

"Let me see it!" He held out an imperious hand, and she gave it up. And he sat, with a check in each hand—one hand on either knee—and looked at her severely.

"Any more?" he said bitingly.

"That's all!" She leaned back with a sigh. The worst was probably over.

He read first one check, and then the other, and looked up swiftly—"They're both made out to you!"

"Yes! I saw he'd done it that way—I'm going to make the contagion one over to you."

"They're both contagion, probably!" He smiled grimly.

"No—one is for me—and he said I could build it just the way I want, and furnish it—and have my own way about everything!"

"You'll feel strange, won't you—having your own way!" He almost growled, and tossed the checks at her:

"Take 'em!"

She went over to her desk and looked for her pen and sat down, dipping it in ink, and sat very still—and presently her head nodded—she caught herself, and sat up.

"I declare—I'm sleepy!" she said.

She dipped the pen again and her head nodded as she wrote.... "I don't know when I've been so sleepy." She reached for the blotter. He came over and took it from her and blotted the little paper carefully, looking down at her kindly.

"It's time you went to sleep," he said.

She looked up. "What do you suppose—is the matter—with me?"

He only smiled at her quietly.

"It's the powder!" she exclaimed.

He nodded. "You'll have a good night's rest. You need it!"

"Such foolishness!" She got up, resting one hand on the lid of the desk, and looked about her. "I have to—put out—my lights——"

"I'll put them out," he said impatiently.

She waited. "Isn't there something else—I ought—to do—something I need to—?" She looked at him appealingly, and he took her hand.

"You need some one to take care of you—that's what you need!" He said it almost gently and he led her to the door.

"Sure you can go by yourself?" he said.

It was half mocking and half tender; and he watched until the quiet-moving figure disappeared in the distance of the long corridor.

Then he put out Aunt Jane's lights and went home.