"But I shan't sell them--whatever he offers."
And vaguely there ran through his mind the phrases of a letter handed to
him by his old uncle's solicitor, together with the will: "Keep them for
my sake, my dear boy; enjoy them, as I have done. You will be tempted to
sell them; but don't, if you can help it. The money would be soon spent;
whereas the beauty of these things, the associations connected with them,
the thoughts they arouse--would give you pleasure for a lifetime. I have
loved you like a father, and I have left you all the little cash I
possess. Use that as you will. But that you should keep and treasure the
gems which have been so much to me, for my sake--and beauty's--would give
me pleasure in the shades--'quo dives Tullus et Ancus'--you know the
rest. You are ambitious, Claude. That's well. But keep you heart green."
What precisely the old fellow might have meant by those last words,
Faversham had often rather sorely wondered, though not without guesses at
the answer. But anyway he had loved his adopted father; he protested it;
and he would not sell the gems. They might represent his "luck"--such as
there was of it--who knew?
* * * * *
The question of removing his patient to a convalescent home at Keswick
was raised by Undershaw at the end of the third week from the accident.
He demanded to see Melrose one morning, and quietly communicated the fact
that he had advised Faversham to transfer himself to Keswick as soon as
possible.
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