The sunshine in the Children's Ward glinted happily; it touched on bits of brass here and there and gleamed, and slipped across the skylight, making shadows in the room. The white-capped nurses had finished their work. Every bed was freshly made, picture-books and toys were scattered through the ward. Flowers stood on the little stands by the beds; and a great bunch of roses was on the table in the centre, under the skylight.

Aunt Jane standing at the door of the ward, looked in, touching the arm of the man beside her. "Those are your roses over there—the ones that came yesterday— They look nice, don't they?" She spoke in a half-whisper—not to attract the attention of the children.

She had wanted him to see the ward like this; and she had wanted him to see Jimmie Sullivan's new leg. And, most of all, she had wanted a good excuse for persuading Herman Medfield to try his strength a little.... If Dr. Carmon's new patient was to have Suite A on Friday, there was no time to waste; and Herman Medfield had been obstinate in refusing to exert himself.

"I'm very comfortable where I am!" he had declared. And he had refused to budge, or to wear anything except the Æsthetic, blue quilted gown.

It was only by deep guilelessness that Aunt Jane had succeeded in bringing him as far as the door of the Children's Ward.

Herman Medfield's glance followed the motion of her hand and rested on the roses. It grew interested as it travelled slowly through the ward to the faces of the children. He was taking in the clean, cool look of the place and the sunlight coming in and the happiness that shone everywhere. It was not what he had imagined the Children's Ward in a hospital would be.... And he had a suspicion that all Children's Wards were not like this—a suspicion that the woman beside him had more to do with the quiet charm of the room than one might have guessed from the unconcerned look of her face.

Beyond the ward, opening out through big doors and the low, wide windows, he had a glimpse of a balcony—with growing plants along its edge and a striped awning; and drifting clouds and the blue sky beyond the awning. His glance came back to his roses in the centre of the room. They were a great bunch of the choicest ones that grew in his garden. They looked very well there, he admitted.

"But I did not intend them for the Children's Ward—" he said, turning and looking down at her.

"I told them Mr. Herman sent them," said Aunt Jane. "I knew you'd like them to have 'em. They take comfort with 'em, you see." She nodded to a child who was lying with her eyes fixed on the flowers. There was a patient look in the small, shrewd face.

"She likes 'em," said Aunt Jane. "They'll do her a world of good!"

She avoided Herman Medfield's eye. She had been a little surprised to find that it was difficult to meet his gaze.... He was almost like a stranger—dressed in the gray business suit and looking down on her with keen, clear eyes.... She had forgotten that Herman Medfield was tall. As she had remembered him, that first day when she went into the waiting-room with his card in her hand, he had not been so tall. She seemed to remember that she had looked down on him and had put him in his place—easily.... Perhaps his thinness made him seem taller—or was it the little triumphing twinkle that had crept into his eyes.

Aunt Jane refused to see the twinkle. She felt sorry for Herman Medfield—somewhere in the back of her mind.

"There's Jimmie Sullivan!" she said. "That's your leg—the one you got for him!"

"Looks like his own," commented Medfield.

Aunt Jane opened the door—and a child looked up from her picture-book.

"Aunt Jane's come!" The ward took it up.

Aunt Jane looked up at Herman Medfield, half apologizing for the commotion they made.

"It helps them get well," she said.

He nodded. "I know all about that."

They went slowly down the ward to the big chair by the table. She stopped by it. "You can sit down here and rest if you want to— You've done first-rate. You'll be well enough to go, Friday, I guess."

She arranged the chair for him and he sat down. "I'm pretty well tired out!" he remarked.

"That's natural enough— You see how nice Jimmie gets around on your leg? Come here, Jimmie, and make your manners to Mr. Herman."

Jimmie came up proudly, hardly limping at all as he approached the man sitting in the big chair. He stood very straight on his frame leg, his hands in his pockets, and looked him in the eye.

"I thank you for my leg!" he said. "It's fine!"

"You are welcome." Medfield was smiling.

"Show him how it walks, Jimmie."

Jimmie strutted off, swinging it proudly.

"You see—it hardly shows at all!" she said, as they watched him cross the room. "And the older he gets, the better he'll manage. You've made a man of him!" She beamed approval on Medfield and on Jimmie and the frame leg and on the whole ward.

Medfield, leaning back in his chair, smiled at her whimsically.

"You spoil everybody!" he said.

She ignored it. "You sit there and rest a spell—till I'm ready to go."

She moved to a bed near by and leaned over to the child and said something. The girl put up a quick hand and listened and glanced at the man in the big chair and nodded happily.

"That's him!" said Aunt Jane looking back to the child and smiling as she went to the next bed.

"We like your flowers, Mr. Herman." The child was speaking softly to him.

Medfield started and turned.

"We like them very much!" said the child, regarding him gravely.

"Yes, we do like them!" came from the next bed. "We like them!" "We do like them!" The call was from farther off. "They're fine, you know!"

It came from all sides now! Medfield glanced from one to the other, a little bewildered and touched.

"We like Mr. Herman's flowers!" they called out.

"I told you they liked 'em," said Aunt Jane. She had come back and was standing smiling at the children. "I thought you'd just like to see how it was yourself!"

"You have them well trained!" replied Medfield, "—all but the name," he added.

"The name doesn't matter—I thought you'd like it better?"

"I do!" He got up, half embarrassed. "I'd better hide somewhere! I never had such an ovation—for a few flowers!"

He turned toward the balcony that opened from the side of the room—with its flower-boxes, and the striped awning covering it from the sun.

He stepped out into the balcony. Below him were the roofs of houses; and the city stretched away in the distance to a sunny haze.