"Fulvia wishes this matter hushed up. It rests with me, of course, whether or no. If I choose, I can drag the whole matter to light of day." Nigel merely said, "Yes." "You acknowledge my right—" "Your power." "Well, well, let it be so. My power, if you choose. As Fulvia's uncle I have the right, unquestionably. I have asked to speak with you, as I am not likely to call again in a hurry." "Without making an apology you hardly could." "Pshaw! As if I had not known you all long enough! But as for this—Fulvia says that to spread the thing abroad would punish the living, not the dead." "Yes." "You think the same? Don't know that I see it so. A man's good name is not supposed to lose its value, even after his death. However, my chief care is for Fulvia's interests. Are you willing to make up to her what she has lost?" "If repayment is ever in my power—" "Repayment! Bosh! Fifty thousand pounds are not made in a day. By the time Fulvia is an old woman, perhaps—and what good would the money be to her then? No, no; you have it in your power to recoup her now—now! Will you do it or no? That is the question." Nigel was silent; understanding only too well. "Mind, my line of action depends on your decision. If you are to be Fulvia's husband, I may safely leave her interests in your hands. If not, I shall see to them myself." "In what way?" "Whichever way I choose. I shall have the matter openly looked into." "You have no thought for my mother in that case." Nigel spoke in a measured, icy voice. Mr. Carden-Cox could verily have answered "No." He was only angry with Clemente Browning just then. "I have thought for my niece," he said. "That is more to the purpose." Another break took place—Nigel looking on the ground, Mr. Carden-Cox looking at Nigel. At any other time he would have felt for Nigel, but now he felt only for himself. His self-love had been deeply wounded, and all other sensations were lost in this. "Well?" "You do not expect an instant decision, I suppose." "Instant! After these weeks! Then you had not made up your mind yet!" "To do what?" "Marry Fulvia." "I have not made up my mind to propose to her. A lady is usually supposed to have a voice in the matter." Nigel was not given to satire, but at the moment it was a relief. "Of course, of course. If Fulvia said no, that would not be your fault. She won't, though," muttered Mr. Carden-Cox. Aloud, he went on: "You understand the alternative. Fulvia, as your fiancée, may demand what amount of secrecy she pleases, for the family of her future husband. I shall not, in that case, oppose her. Fulvia, standing alone, will be a different matter. I shall feel it my duty to take action on her behalf." "To blazon our private affairs abroad!" Nigel spoke bitterly. It was not wise, neither was it surprising. Mr. Carden-Cox shrugged his shoulders.