self,"
said Melrose, in his most determined voice.
"Of course, if you persist in asking him to stay, I suppose he must
ultimately decide." Undershaw's tone betrayed his annoyance. "But I warn
you, I reserve my own right of advice. And moreover--supposing you do
furnish this room for him, allow me to point out that he will soon want
something else, and something more, even, than a better room. He will
want cheerful society."
"Well?" The word was challenging.
"You are most kind and indefatigable in coming to see him. But,
after all, a man at his point of convalescence, and inclined to be
depressed--the natural result of such an accident--wants change,
intellectual as well as physical, and society of his own age."
"What's to prevent his getting it?" asked Melrose, shortly. "When the
room is in order, he will use it exactly as he likes."
Undershaw shrugged his shoulders, anxious to escape to his consultation.
"Let us discuss it again to-morrow. I have told you what I think best."
He turned to go.
"Will you give that order to Barclay?"
Undershaw laughed.
"If I do, I mustn't be taken as aiding and abetting you. But of
course--if you wish it."
"Ten o'clock to-morrow," said Melrose, accompanying him to the door. "Ten
o'clock, sharp." He stood, with raised forefinger, on the threshold of
the newly opened room, bowing a stiff farewell.
Undershaw escaped. But as he turned into the pillared hall, Nurse Aston
hurriedly emerged from Faversham's room. She reported some fresh trouble
in one of the wounds on the leg caused by the accident, which had never
yet properly healed. There was some pain, and a rise in temperature.
* * * * *
The unfavourable symptoms soon subsided. But as the fear of
blood-poisoning had been in Undershaw's mind from the beginning, they led
him to postpone, in any case, the arrangements that had been set on foot
for Faversham's departure. During three or four days afterward he saw
little or nothing of Melrose. But he and Nurse Aston were well aware that
unusual things were going on in the house. Owing to the great thickness
of the walls, the distance of Faversham's room from the scene of action,
and the vigilance of his nurse, who would allow no traffic whatever
through the front hall, the patient was protected from the noise of
workmen in the house, and practically knew nothing of the operations
going on. Melrose appeared every evening as usual, and gav
|