Mrs. Browning gazed beyond and through him. She swept past slowly, and came among her children, laying a hand on Nigel's arm. "What is it all about?" she asked in her sweet low voice. "I do not understand. Some one can open the door for Mr. Carden-Cox." Mr. Carden-Cox absolutely went, there and then, without a word of self-excuse, opening the door for himself, bowing to the decision of that fair woman as he would have bowed to the decision of no other human being. Fulvia gathered her wits together, and rushed after him to the front door. "One word—one word!" she said. "Hear me, uncle—I will be heard," as he was turning away. "You must listen. This is not to be known—not to be spread abroad. No one is to know it except ourselves." Mr. Carden-Cox's face was dark with wrath. He had obeyed Clemence Browning, but he would not easily forgive either her dismissal or his own submission. "Atrocious!" was the one word he uttered. Then he shook off Fulvia's hand. "Let me go, girl! I've done with you all! An ungrateful crew! After all these years—to be turned away like a tramp! Ordered off by her!" "It is not ingratitude! You know it is not! You know you were wrong! You know a wife could not hear such words of her husband! And, whatever you think, the matter is not to go any farther. It must not—shall not! What is the good? What would be the use—now?" "That may be as I choose," said Mr. Carden-Cox. A sudden consciousness of power brought coolness to him. He held the family secret, and he was not bound. "If you do—if you tell—" cried Fulvia. "Uncle, you must understand! If you make this known, I will never speak to you again. I declare I will not. And what is the use?" she went on passionately. "The money is gone, and talking will not bring it back. Have you no pity for those who are left? He is dead, and you cannot touch him—only his name. That will hurt them, not him. If he were wrong—ever so wrong—what then? I don't believe he understood; but if he did, why are they to suffer? Do you want to kill madre? I could not have thought you so hard, so cruel! I thought you cared for us all." Mr. Carden-Cox stood still, looking at her. "Child, you don't understand," he said at length. "Women never do! You think fifty thousand pounds a toy, to be tossed from hand to hand." He was composed now, not less angry, but able to feel a certain admiration for Fulvia's generosity. "Not one woman in a thousand knows the meaning of a 'trust.' You don't!" Another pause. Was he relenting? "I shall not set foot in this house again. That is, not until Clemente requests it. She will not; and I shall not come. Best settle the matter now. Send Nigel here at once. I will wait for him. Yes, you may go." "You will keep our secret?" "Send Nigel, and be quick," was the answer. Fulvia obeyed. What else could she do? Nigel came, stern and silent. The two men stood together in the open doorway, no one else within hearing.