"Oh! Oh! I'm burning my fingers. What shall I do? He's done for—black as a coal." "Never mind; we've plenty more! You are getting your face a most awful colour, my dear. Look at Anice." "Anice has a complexion, and I've none. Can't take care of what I haven't got. I say—what are you after? Is that for me? Thanks. And Fulvie would like another. Don't you care for chestnuts, father?" "No, dear," mournfully. Tea came in, and was dispensed by Fulvia; in the midst of which operation a fly drove up to the front door. Daisy capered to the window, and peeped out. "Oh, it is Mr. Carden-Cox! With a huge parcel! Here he comes! Fulvie's birthday, of course," cried thoughtless Daisy. "How jolly! I said he was sure to come." "You little goose!" breathed Nigel. And "Daisy!" Fulvia uttered impatiently. But the culprit heard neither. "He's coming!" she exclaimed again. And Mr. Browning put his hand to his side, as the door opened to a rustle of brown paper. Mr. Carden-Cox carried the parcel—a big one, as Daisy had said. He was in one of his excited states—that could be seen at once. Fulvia rose to greet and silence him, but found herself powerless. She might as well have tried to stem a rivulet with her hand. By going forward she only absorbed the whole of his attention, and rendered him unconscious of Mr. Browning's presence. "How d'you do, Fulvia? How d'you do, my dear? Many happy returns of the day! I wish you all manner of good things through life: health to enjoy your money, and wisdom to use it. I've brought you a little remembrance—sort of thing a lady of property ought to have, hey! A dressing-case, nothing more; don't expect too much. But it's a tidy concern, I flatter myself—tidy little concern, good of its kind. Here, have off the wrappings. What's the matter? You look as if it would bite you. Eh? what do you say? Couldn't get what I wanted in Newton Bury, so sent to London for this, and it has only just arrived. Shameful delay! Couldn't think what to do this morning, when it hadn't come. Telegraphed to London, and found it had gone off all right, so went to the station, and there it was. Abominable carelessness! I'll write a complaint to headquarters. However, here it is at last, just in time; birthday not over yet, eh? Got one of a good solid kind—see—silver fittings and the rest—here—" Fulvia was trying to thank and to check him, in vain.