The July day was rather chill and rainy and he decided to
await Melrose indoors.
As to the "important proposal" his mind was full of conjectures. What he
thought most probable was that Melrose intended, according to various
fresh hints and indications, to make him another and a more serious offer
for his gems--no doubt a big offer. They were worth at least three
thousand pounds, and Melrose of course knew their value to a hair.
"Well, I shall not sell them," thought Faversham, his hands behind his
head, his eyes following the misty course of the river, and the rain
showers scudding over the fells. "I shall not sell them."
His mind clung obstinately to this resolve. His ambitions with regard to
money went, in fact, so far beyond anything that three thousand pounds
could satisfy, that the inducement to sell at such a price--which he knew
to be the market price--and wound thereby the deepest and sincerest of
his affections, was not really great. The little capital on which he
lived was nearly double the sum, and could be made to yield a fair income
by small and judicious speculation. He did not see that he should be much
better off for the addition to it of three thousand pounds; and on the
other hand, were the gems sold, he should have lost much that he keenly
valued--the prestige of ownership; the access which it gave him to
circles, learned or wealthy, which had been else closed to him; the
distinction attaching thereby to his otherwise obscure name in catalogues
and monographs, English or foreign.
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