London, to visit
you on my way._

_Believe me,
Yours very truly,
JOHN FOREST._

The prelate was not the man to exaggerate. Anthony's recovery went on
amain. His state of independence had, as we know, been broached by
Lady Touchstone: it was becoming that the true extent of his fortune
should be disclosed by Monseigneur Forest himself.

The sick man received the news with some emotion.

He felt as though suddenly a wand had been set in his hand--a wand
beneath whose careless touch the shifting flux of wishes must set and
crystallize. For more than eighteen months he had "thought in
pennies." Henceforth it would be unnecessary to think at all. The
spectre of Ways and Means was laid for ever. Often, when his purse had
been lightest--when he had been forced to eat sparingly of the cheapest
food--he had been used to remember an old fragment of Virgil that he
had learned as a boy. _Forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit_. Times
without number he had been glad of the tag. And now it had served its
turn.... Looking back upon his penury, he could not wish that he had
been spared those lean, ill-favoured days. And when, because of these,
Monseigneur Forest reviled himself, Lyveden refused to listen,
declaring that the experience had been invaluable, and must surely
stand the camel in good stead when the time came for him to negotiate
the needle's eye. For a prelate to withstand such a contention was
more than difficult.... Yet if the patient spoke to the point, it was
by accident. His thoughts were elsewhere. Childishly excited, he was
wanting to use his wand. Ridiculously enough, his romping brain could
not furnish a wish to be converted.... Suddenly an idea came to him.
His dog, his little faithful dog, had gone in need of a collar for over
nine months....

Patch!

Mercifully the terrier was dumb. Otherwise the prelate's "Bridge of
Providence" must have returned unto the air whence it came. As it was,
the dog was brought to the sick-room twice every day. The tenderness
with which he treated Anthony was wonderful to see. Naturally
boisterous, the efforts with which he mastered the frenzy these
interviews provoked, were manifest. He knew that Lyveden had been
dangerously ill. He knew that he was mending. The twofold
consideration set the flame of his devotion flaring. Yet, when he
visited his master, the jet must be reduced to a pilot.... The marvel
is the dog did not burst. Inst