After the funeral Herrick made several attempts to discover something about the letter delivered to Mrs. Marsh on the day of her death, although he was careful not to hint that it had any connection with her sudden end. But although he questioned the postman and the postal authorities, he could gain very little satisfaction. It was a plain envelope stamped--so far as could be remembered--with the London post-mark. "Humph!" said Dr. Jim to himself when he acquired this information. "Frisco is in London. I wonder if he wrote that letter?" However it was little use conjecturing. Mrs. Marsh was dead and had taken her secret and the secret of Colonel Carr along with her into the next world. Herrick put the idea out of his head, as he had much to do in considering his future position. Three or four days after the funeral he was alone with Stephen in the Beorminster house, and there spoke to the young man about his movements. "I must return to London Marsh," he said. "I can do no more good here; and I must attend to my practice." "No," replied Stephen quickly, "you must not leave me like this Herrick. I have grown used to you as a companion. I like you more than any man I ever met, and without you I should be lost. You must stay with me. Is your practice a large one?" "On the contrary it is very small. I have been established in West Kensington only for two years. If I had not a small income of my own I should starve." "Well you must come to me. I hope you will Herrick. I am rich, and I can allow you a good income--say a thousand a year." "That is generous of you Marsh. Did your mother speak of this to you?" "No! she did not. Why do you ask?" "Because she wanted me to stay with you, and proposed the same amount." "I am glad," cried Stephen his face lighting up. "I can do this much at least for her memory. So she wished you to remain with me? You will of course. I cannot do without you." Herrick smoked in silence for a few minutes. "A man in my position has no right to turn his back on such good fortune. All the same Marsh, if I did not like you personally; if I did not think I could earn my income by helping you, I would not take the position." "Then you will do so?" cried Stephen stretching out his hand. The doctor grasped it heartily in token of acceptance. "But I am not without scruples as to taking such a large amount of money," said he. "I make only a couple of hundred a year by my practice. You rate me at a high value." "Not too high for the good you will do me," said Marsh heartily. "I have been a different man since you came into my life. You have shown me how to look at things in a broader spirit. I am less morbid than I was. No, Herrick. I have eight thousand a year, and you shall have the sum I name."