Consequently, after three weeks of constant observation and medication on the part of Dr. James, who had taken up his residence at Pryor’s Cove, Cowperwood himself felt that he was much better, and James, studying him from day to day, decided that his patient had sufficiently revived physically to undertake the travel program suggested.
However, Berenice, delighted as she was to know that Cowperwood was improving in health, was nevertheless troubled by the idea of the trip.
She was well aware that rumours concerning a fatal illness would probably disrupt his whole economic plan, but loving him as she did, she could not help conjuring up fears that such a trip might not prove as valuable and effective as Dr. James and Cowperwood thought.
But Cowperwood assured her that she had nothing to worry about, since he felt better, and the plan was ideal.
The following week end they departed.
And true enough, the London press immediately announced that Frank Cowperwood, recently rumoured to be seriously ill, was apparently so completely recovered as to be able to indulge in a pleasure tour of Europe.
A little later there were still other newspaper items, from Paris, from Budapest, from Carlsbad, Vienna, and from Monte Carlo, fabulous Monte Carlo.
The papers emphasized this last information by saying that “the indestructible Cowperwood, so recently ill, had chosen Monte Carlo as a place of pleasure and rest.”
However, on his return to London, the questions put to him by reporters took on a very frank and open character.
One reporter asked:
“Is there any truth to the rumour, Mr. Cowperwood, that you’ve been seriously ill?”
“As a matter of fact, my boy,” replied Cowperwood, “I had been working too hard and found I needed a rest.
A вoctor friend of mine did accompany me on this trip, and we’ve just been puttering around the Continent.”
He laughed heartily when the World correspondent asked whether or not it was true that he had bequeathed his priceless art treasures to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“If people want to know what is in my will,” he said, “they’ll have to wait until I’m under the turf, and I can only hope that their charity is as strong as their curiosity.”
These comments brought smiles to the faces of Berenice and Dr. James as they read them on the spacious lawn of Pryor’s Cove.
Dr. James, though steadily conscious of the necessity of returning to New York and his practice there, found himself drawn further and further into the affections of Cowperwood, and Berenice as well.
For both were grateful to him beyond measure for having brought Cowperwood back to seemingly normal health and strength.
And so, when the time came for the doctor to leave, there was an emotional sense of gratitude and mental union among the three.
“There’s really nothing I can say to you, Jeff,” said Cowperwood, as he and Berenice walked with the doctor to the gangplank of the steamer on which he was about to leave.
“Anything I can do for you is yours to command.
I ask but one thing: that our friendship continue as it has in the past.”
“Don’t try to reward me, Frank,” interrupted James.
“Knowing you all these years has been my reward.
Come to see me in New York when you can.
I’ll be waiting to see you again.”
Picking up his bag, he added:
“Well, friends, boats wait for no man!” and with that he smiled and again shook hands, finally merging with the throng now boarding the boat.
Chapter 64
Now that Dr. James was gone, Cowperwood was faced with many labors which had accumulated during his absence. These would require months of concentrated energy and attention, the while he found it necessary to turn to certain phases of his personal problems, one of which was a letter from Aileen, in which she stated that while the alterations being made in the new addition were going forward under the supervision of Pyne, the architect, she felt that Cowperwood should return to New York as soon as possible in order to look the whole plan over, so that he could either approve or disapprove before it was too late.
She was not sure there would be space enough in the new gallery for the pictures he had recently added to his collection.
While she respected Mr. Cuthbert’s opinion as an art expert, there were times when she felt that Cowperwood would disagree wholeheartedly with him if he were present.
Cowperwood realized that this was something that deserved his attention.
Still, at this particular time he felt he could ill afford a trip to New York.
There were too many urgent matters of policy and practical details concerning the underground that demanded his personal supervision.
Of course, Lord Stane, who was frequently about, assured him of the now probably smooth future of the entire system, and by his interest and efforts succeeded in lessening the former friction among the varied interests.
Stane seemed to be very much relieved and pleased at his recovery.
“Well, Cowperwood,” he said to him the first morning after his return, “you look as good as new.
How did you do it?”
“I didn’t do it,” replied Cowperwood.
“It was all the work of my old friend, Jeff James.
He’s pulled me out of a few illnesses in the past, but this time he pulled me out of a financial jam as well.”
“You’re right there,” said Stane.
“You certainly fooled the public in a masterly fashion.”
“That was Jeff’s brilliant idea.
He not only took me on the trip to allay suspicion and rumor, but he cured me en route,” said Cowperwood.
Another matter that compelled his personal attention at this time was the discussion with Rexford Lynnwood, one of the three American sculptors whose names had been suggested by Jamieson regarding the tomb he proposed to have built.
Lynnwood’s qualifications appealed to Cowperwood because of the fact that in connection with a prize recently offered for a tomb and statue to mark the grave of a lately deceased governor of one of the southern states, his design carried on one of its surfaces a reproduction of the cabin in which the man had been born, and at the foot of a huge, moss-covered oak tree was drawn the outline of a horse which he had ridden in various battles of the Civil War.
As Cowperwood looked at it, he was touched by the pathos and simplicity of the whole conception.
Later as he sat opposite Lynnwood on the other side of his massive working desk, he was struck by the man’s classic features, his deep-set eyes, and tall angular figure.