care and
depression. He now exhibited little trace of the moroseness and
selfishness which had of late so marred his character; and though he
naturally felt severely at times the fatigue of travel, yet we had no
longer to dread any relapse into that state of lethargy or stupor which
had so often baffled every effort to counteract it at Posilipo. Some
feeling of superstitious aversion had prompted me to give orders that
the Stradivarius violin should be left behind at Posilipo. But before
parting my brother asked for it, and insisted that it should be brought
with him, though I had never heard him play a note on it for many weeks.
He took an interest in all the petty episodes of travel, and certainly
appeared to derive more entertainment from the journey than was to have
been anticipated in his feeble state of health.

To the incidents of the evening spent in the Via del Giardino he made no
allusion of any kind, nor did I for my part wish to renew memories of
so unpleasant a nature. His only reference occurred one Sunday evening
as we were passing a small graveyard near Genoa. The scene apparently
turned his thoughts to that subject, and he told me that he had taken
measures before leaving Naples to ensure that the remains of Adrian
Temple should be decently interred in the cemetery of Santa Bibiana.
His words set me thinking again, and unsatisfied curiosity prompted
me strongly to inquire of him how he had convinced himself that the
skeleton at the foot of the stairs was indeed that of Adrian Temple. But
I restrained myself, partly from a reliance on his promise that he would
one day explain the whole story to me, and partly being very reluctant
to mar the enjoyment of the peaceful scenes through which we were
passing, by the introduction of any subjects so jarring and painful as
those to which I have alluded.

We reached London at last, and here we stopped a few days to make some
necessary arrangements before going down to Worth Maltravers. I had
urged upon John during the journey that immediately on his arrival in
London he should obtain the best English medical advice as to his own
health. Though he at first demurred, saying that nothing more was to be
done, and that he was perfectly satisfied with the medicine given him by
Dr. Baravelli, which he continued to take, yet by constant entreaty I
prevailed upon him to accede to so reasonable a request. Dr. Frobisher,
considered at that time the first living authority o