"Why?" "You ought, at least, to have had what Mr. Carden-Cox calls 'a statement.'" "Time enough. I am in no hurry. The money is there all right; and when padre is up to business, he will make as many statements as you like." Was the money "there all right"? Mr. Carden-Cox's suspicions had infected Nigel; yet Nigel would not let himself doubt. Mr. Browning's nerves might account for anything. "I really believe padre is stronger already, in fact. He would not have borne this so well a month ago. But I am glad, very glad, that the day is over. It has been a strain upon us all, looking forward. Now things can go on just as they always do." "You are the most unselfish of beings!" Nigel said involuntarily. Then, when he saw her look—the heightening colour and dropped eyelids—he was vexed with himself for the unguarded remark. "I don't know about unselfishness; I seem to be so completely one of you all, that what affects you affects me." Nigel could have replied, "Is not that the very essence of unselfishness?"—but he would not risk it. He saw that she was disappointed at his silence, and the light in her face faded. "At all events, I know somebody else is relieved too," she said in her usual tone. "Confess! You have been dreadfully worried lately; and to-day—well, you are not depressed." "Chestnuts and nonsense! That doesn't mean much. One gets a fit of high spirits sometimes unreasonably." "I must be off to bed. Good-night," she said, and the tone was flat. Nigel never offered to kiss her now, of course. He had not since the first day of his return. She moved away, and he sat long, thinking—dreaming rather—not of Fulvia, but of Ethel. In the early morning there came a sudden alarm. Mr. Browning was ill. A severe attack of pain and breathlessness came on, like in kind to the short attack he had had before, when only Nigel and Dr. Duncan were present, but worse in degree. He had been in danger then, and had rallied quickly. Now there was no real rally; only a slight occasional improvement, followed by a worse relapse. Dr. Duncan, summoned hastily, could do little, for remedies failed to touch the evil. "He will not stand this long," Dr. Duncan said in a low voice to Nigel. "Yes—great danger. I doubt if he will last through the day." The suffering and oppression increased, till it was hard to look on unmoved. Mr. Browning could not lie down, could not endure to be in bed. He sat up in his easy-chair, leaning forward, his face livid, his eyes full of helpless affectionate appeal, which went to their very hearts. Mrs. Browning, worn out by long previous strain, broke down under the distress of seeing him thus. She had to be taken to another room, and was there tended by Daisy, who at such a time could rise out of her childishness, and be useful. Anice was absent from the sick-room of course; poor weak-natured Anice, always fleeing, unwomanlike, from aught that aroused a feeling of discomfort.