and of course I shall go with him."

"Do you suggest that he has had any lack of attention here from me or my
servants?" said Melrose, hotly.

"By no means. But--well, sir, I will be open with you. Mr. Faversham in
my opinion wants a change of scene. He has been in that room for three
weeks, and--he understands there is no other to which he can be moved.
It would be a great advantage, too, to be able to carry him into a
garden. In fact"--the little doctor spoke with the same cool frankness he
had used in his first interview with Melrose--"your house, Mr. Melrose,
is a museum; but it is not exactly the best place for an invalid who is
beginning to get about again."

Melrose frowned upon him.

"What does he want, eh? More space? Another room? How many rooms do you
suppose there are in this house, eh?" he asked in a voice half hectoring,
half scornful.

"Scores, I daresay," said Undershaw, quietly. "But when I inquired of
Dixon the other day whether it would be impossible to move Mr. Faversham
into another room he told me that every hole and corner in the house was
occupied by your collections, except two on the ground floor that you had
never furnished. We can't put Mr. Faversham into an unfurnished room.
That which he occupies at present is, if I may speak plainly, rather
barer of comforts than I like."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Well, when an invalid's out of bed a pleasant and comfortable room is a
help to him--a few things to look at on the walls--a change of chairs--a
bookcase or two--and so on. Mr. Faversham's present room is--I mean
no offence--as bare as a hospital ward, and not so cheerful. Then as to
the garden"--Undershaw moved to a side window and pointed to the
overgrown and gloomy wilderness outside--"nurse and I have tried in vain
to find a spot to which we could carry him. I am afraid I must say that
an ordinary lodging-house, with a bit of sunny lawn on which he could lie
in his long chair, would suit him better, at his present stage, than this
fine old house."

"Luxury!" growled Melrose, "useless luxury and expense! that's what every
one's after nowadays. A man must be as _cossu_ as a pea in a pod! I'll go
and speak to him myself!"

And catching up round him the sort of Tennysonian cloak he habitually
wore, even in the house and on a summer day, Melrose moved imperiously
toward the door.

Undershaw stood in his way.

"Mr. Faversham is really not fit yet to discuss his own plans, except