in room 5, mrs. pelton was sitting in a big rocking-chair by the window, her feet on a hassock and her eyes fixed on the great bowl of blue forget-me-nots on the table beside her.

she had been looking at the forget-me-nots ever since aunt jane appeared with the big box, just before dinner.... she could hardly eat her dinner for looking at them. she had had the bowl of flowers set on her tray—where they crowded the soup and vegetables, and made her happy.... she wished john could see them, and the children could see them—or that there was somebody she could divide with. the beauty of the forget-me-nots was too much for her. it was such a great bunch—it filled the bowl and overflowed the sides. she had never seen so many forget-me-nots in one bunch!... now and then, sitting in the big chair, she reached out a hand to them and touched the flowers delicately.[pg 152] she wished she were bigger—the happiness of the flowers crowded on her. perhaps if she were bigger, she could enjoy them more.

aunt jane had not seemed overcome by the flowers when she brought them in. she had taken them from the box and shaken them apart with brisk fingers and arranged them in the bowl and moved the stand over by the window close to mrs. pelton's chair.

"there!" she had said. "makes you quite a nice bunch, don't it!" she stood off and admired them.... mrs. pelton was thinking now of aunt jane, and she was thinking that she did not even know who had sent them—"a man by the name of herman," aunt jane had said.

mrs. pelton had gone over in her mind all the people she had ever known—but there were no hermans that she knew, or that john knew. it seemed very strange for any one to send a great bunch of flowers to her—any one she didn't know!

she wished she could thank him. she wished mamie could see them. mamie loved flowers so. she looked at the flowers[pg 153] and thought of mamie and the children and john—and her face was happy. she looked at the row of photographs ranged along the bureau in front of the mirror.... it had been such a comfortable time at the hospital. and she had dreaded it so before she came! and there wasn't anything to dread. somehow, it was a beautiful place.... and there was the man who was going to pay for her being here.... she had gone over and over it, in her mind—his paying for her—wondering about it.... they had worried, she and john, and they had turned and twisted every penny, and after all there was not enough.... but of course she had to come. the doctor had said it wouldn't do to put it off; and so she had come, worried and anxious about it all—and right in the room next to her, while she waited—was the man who had offered to pay everything.... it was a beautiful place—with such a good man in it—and aunt jane, always doing something for her—and the forget-me-nots. she sighed happily, her eyes on the flowers.

aunt jane appeared in the doorway, and surveyed her shrewdly. "tired?" she asked.

[pg 154]

"not a bit." mrs. pelton shook her head. "i don't feel as if i could ever be tired any more."

she was dressed in a long blue garment—one of aunt jane's wrappers—that enveloped her from head to foot. her parted hair, smooth and shining, was combed close to her head and she looked very small in the big rocking-chair, but resolute and brave.

aunt jane regarded her mildly. "i reckon you'll get around to being tired, after a while—like the rest of us." she glanced at the bowl of forget-me-nots. "you enjoy your flowers, don't you!"

"they make me 'most too happy—they're so beautiful!"

"i guess they won't hurt," said aunt jane. "being happy don't hurt—though sometimes it feels as if it hurt," she added thoughtfully. "—as you just couldn't hold any more."

"yes. that's it! that's the way i feel!" the little woman spoke eagerly and sat up.

"i've been thinking—" she waited a minute, looking at the flowers. "maybe i ought to go in the ward. i always meant to go in the ward, you know."

[pg 155]

aunt jane regarded her. "you like it here, don't you?"

"i like it—yes!" she looked about her with grateful eyes—at the photographs and flowers and then at aunt jane's face. "it's beautiful!" she said softly.

"well, i don't know as it's so beautiful." aunt jane was looking thoughtfully before her. she was thinking of suite a, perhaps. "it's a good, comfortable room and you get a little sun—along toward sunset." she glanced at the window, where the streak of sunshine was creeping in on the sill, and a little glow came from the sky. "it's a comfortable room—yes."

"the ward would be cheaper," said the woman. she hesitated. "it don't seem quite fair to him—the man that's paying, i mean—not to get along as cheap as we can."

"i wouldn't worry about getting along cheap," said aunt jane. "some folks need one thing, and some another. what you need is to keep still a spell and rest.... you don't feel lonesome, do you?"

"lonesome! oh, no!" she gave a little sigh. her thin hands were clasped in her lap. "it is so good to be quiet!" she said.

[pg 156]

"i thought likely," aunt jane nodded. "you just sit still and enjoy your quiet and get well ... you don't need to worry about the man that's going to pay. he wouldn't want you to worry. he's comfortable and he'd want you to be comfortable. he's got a good room."

the woman's eyes brooded on it. "i can't thank him, or do anything," she said a little wistfully. "i'd like to have him know how we feel about his doing it."

"well, you can thank him by and by, when you get round to it—if you want to," said aunt jane. "i guess he'll let you thank him. you want to get well first."

"yes." her eyes were on the forget-me-nots and she reached out a hand to them. "i might send him some of my flowers," she said eagerly.

aunt jane's face wrinkled at the forget-me-nots—a little perplexed and surprised and amused look.

"i could send them to him, couldn't i? it would be proper to send them to him?"

"yes—i guess it's proper," said aunt jane dryly. "i don't believe he's got any flowers in his room." her eyes twinkled.

[pg 157]

"i'll send them to him now—right off! you pick out a nice bunch for him." she reached to them with a happy gesture.

aunt jane bent over the forget-me-nots, her smile full of gentle chuckles. "we'll make him a nice bunch," she said cheerfully. she selected a few meagre blossoms here and there.

"you're not getting the best ones!" the little woman was excited and eager. "they're better on this side. see—there's one—and there!" her face had the soft, clear color of happiness.

aunt jane drew out the flowers with half-reluctant touch and arranged them slowly. "seems 'most too bad to spoil your bunch," she said.

"oh, i like it!" the woman laughed a little tremulously. "i told you it kind of hurt me to have so many, and it's a way of thanking him, isn't it? here, take this one!"

her eyes were shining. "don't they look nice! you tell him i thank him, please, and i hope he's doing well."

"i'll tell him," said aunt jane. her eyes[pg 158] rested on the flowers. "i shouldn't wonder if he'd be real pleased with them." she held them off and surveyed them thoughtfully. "i'll tell him what you said and i guess maybe he'll get a good deal of comfort out of it. he needs flowers—and some one to think about him—as much as anybody ever i see."