I need not tell you, of course, that she is as greatly concerned as I am, regardless of Dr. Middleton’s conclusions”—a statement which caused Cowperwood to assert rather positively: “But there’s nothing of any consequence the matter with me.
I may not be as good as new, but I’m still somewhere near it.
And as far as business is concerned, I’ll be on hand to cope with any difficulties there.
As a matter of fact, you should be able to judge for yourself, by the results so far, whether our affairs are being managed capably or not.”
There was just a tingle of reproach in his tone, which Stane noticed.
“The results have been tremendous,” he said.
“Anyone who could come over here with such a proposition as yours and secure $25,000,000 from American investors, certainly deserves nothing but compliments from me.
And I’m glad to express my gratitude, and that of our investors, for your interest and your services.
The only trouble is, Cowperwood, it all rests on your broad American shoulders and your continued health and strength.
And that is important.”
At this point there was a knock on the door, following which Berenice entered.
After greetings and light conversation, Stane urged both to stay as long as they wished, whether it be a week or a month.
But Cowperwood, feeling the need of extreme privacy as well as quiet and rest, insisted on their early departure.
After Stane had left, he turned to Berenice, and said:
“It isn’t that I feel so badly, dearest.
I don’t, but because of the need of avoiding publicity of any kind, I would like us to leave here as soon as possible, and if I had my choice, I would rather go to Pryor’s Cove than to the hotel.
Won’t you please arrange it with Lord Stane so that we may leave here in the morning?”
“Of course, dear,” replied Berenice, “if that’s what you want.
I would feel better myself if you were over there near me.”
“There’s one other thing, Bevy,” went on Cowperwood.
“I want you to get Jamieson to cable to Dr. Jefferson James in New York.
He’s my old physician and friend.
Ask him, if possible, to come to London.
Tell Jamieson this is to be confidential and in code.
He can reach him at the New York Medical Society.”
“Then you do feel that there is something wrong with you?”
Her tone indicated her nervousness.
“No!
Not as bad as all that by any means, but, as you see for yourself, I’m in a rather uncertain state as to what’s really wrong with me.
Besides, as far as my public affairs are concerned, it might strike any person, particularly my stockholders and investors, as very peculiar that a man should suddenly collapse for no apparent reason, although I may have overdone my eating and drinking a little bit last night, particularly as to the champagne.
But certainly I never felt like that before.
And I surely would like to see Jefferson.
He’ll know, and will tell me the truth.”
“Frank,” interrupted Berenice at this point, “what did Dr. Wayne tell you the last time you saw him that you did not tell me?
What did the specialists’ report show?”
“Oh, Dr. Wayne said that the pain I had at that time might be distantly related to Bright’s disease, only he was not sure, because, he said, there are two phases of Bright’s disease, chronic and acute.
Mine, he said, was neither one nor the other.
He said I would have to wait and see if anything of a more serious nature developed before any specialist could give a correct diagnosis.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I think Dr. James should come over.
I’ll get Jamieson to cable him tomorrow.
In the meantime, I certainly think that Pryor’s Cove is the place for you until such time as Dr. James feels you are all right.”
Whereupon she crossed to the window, drawing the shade, and asked him to try and rest for a period while she went to make all the arrangements necessary for their departure in the morning. But even as she did this, her mind was wrestling with the import of all this to him, and though she was outwardly gracious, she was trembling inwardly.
“You are quite right, my dear,” observed Stane, when she informed him of their decision to go to Pryor’s Cove.
“It is likely to have a soothing effect on him, I’m sure, as it has had on me many times in the past.
Besides, your mother is there, and she will be of help to you.
If you will permit me, I’ll drive you over myself in the morning.
Mr. Cowperwood is far too important to me to overlook anything that might contribute to his comfort and speedy recovery.”
Chapter 62
The aftermath of all this was, in the course of the next two weeks, the arrival at Pryor’s Cove of Dr. James, who, seeing Cowperwood resting comfortably in a bedroom overlooking the Thames, paused to observe:
“Well, Frank, I see that you’re not so ill that you can’t enjoy the beautiful view through these windows.