' continued he, 'though I have written all this, it is so blotted
and disgraceful generally--done with the left hand, and while in great
pain--that I think it would be as well not to send the letter, but simply a
message--'

Atlee nodded, and Walpole went on: 'A message to say that I was wishing to
write, but unable; and that if I had her permission, so soon as my fingers
could hold a pen, to finish--yes, to finish that communication I had
already begun, and if she felt there was no inconvenience in writing to me,
under cover to your care, I should pledge myself to devote all my zeal and
my best services to her interests.'

'In fact, I am to lead her to suppose she ought to have the most implicit
confidence in you, and to believe in me, because I say so.'

'I do not exactly see that these are my instructions to you.'

'Well, you certainly want to write to her.'

'I don't know that I do.'

'At all events, you want her to write to _you_.'

'You are nearer the mark now.'

'That ought not to be very difficult to arrange. I'll go down now and
have a cup of tea, and I may, I hope, come up and see you again before
bed-time.'

'Wait one moment,' cried Walpole, as the other was about to leave the room.
'Do you see a small tray on that table yonder, with some trinkets? Yes,
that is it. Well, will you do me the favour to choose something amongst
them as your fee? Come, come, you know you are my doctor now, and I
insist on this. There's nothing of any value there, and you will have no
misgivings.'

'Am I to take it haphazard?' asked Atlee.

'Whatever you like,' said the other indolently.

'I have selected a ring,' said Atlee, as he drew it on his finger.

'Not an opal?'

'Yes, it is an opal with brilliants round it.'

'I'd rather you'd taken all the rest than that. Not that I ever wear it,
but somehow it has a bit of memory attached to it!'

'Do you know,' said Atlee gravely, 'you are adding immensely to the value
I desired to see in it? I wanted something as a souvenir of you--what the
Germans call an _Andenken_, and here is evidently what has some secret clue
to your affections. It was not an old love-token?'

'No; or I should certainly not part with it.'

'It did not belong to a friend now no more?'

'Nor that either,' said he, smiling at the other's persistent curiosity.

'Then if it be neither the gift of an old love nor a lost friend, I'll not
relinquish it,' cried Joe.

'Be it so,' said Walpole, hal