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Ward, Mrs. Humphry, 1851-1920

"The Mating of Lydia"

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.


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