"Where is she?"
"At a private hotel in Westminster. We have taken up our quarters there for the time being."
"Until you can come here," assumed Frank. "I suppose you want me to clear out as soon as possible. My wife is ill——"
"I want you to stay for good, if you will," interrupted Mr. Brown. "The business is excellent, you know, better than when I left it. If you will take to it I shall make it quite easy for you."
"What are you going to do yourself?" questioned Frank.
"Nothing at present," said Mr. Max Brown. "Lota's relatives on the mother's side live in Wales, and she wants to go amongst them for a time. Perhaps I shall set up in practice there. Lota's fortune is more than enough for us, but I should be miserable with nothing to do. Will you take to this concern, Raynor?"
"I think not," replied Frank, shaking his head. "My wife does not like the neighbourhood."
"Neither would my wife like it. Well, there's no hurry; it is a good offer, and you can consider it. And, look here, Raynor: if you would like a day or two's holiday now, take it: you have been hard at work long enough. I will come down and attend for you. I should like to see my old patients again: though some of them were queer kind of people."
"Thank you," said Frank mechanically.
Thought after thought was passing through his mind. No, he would not stay here. He had no further motive for seeking obscurity, thank Heaven, and Daisy should be removed to a more congenial atmosphere. But—what could he do for means? He must be only an assistant yet, he supposed; but better luck might come in course of time.