She laid her hand on his—ice-cold, both hers and his. "Nigel, help me; tell me what can be done. It will kill me if this becomes known. Think of all Newton Bury talking—talking of—him! I could not bear it!" and there was a terrible sob. "What can we do? Fulvia does not wish—but will—will Mr. Carden-Cox keep silence?" "Yes, if—" Nigel caught himself up; he had not meant to say so much. "If? Has he made a condition?" "He will do nothing till I write or see him again." "No; but 'if'—you said 'if.' Did you mean nothing? You must tell me all. I cannot bear the thought of its being known. It would be too—too fearful—now he is gene! He cannot defend himself. And people are so hard; they would judge him cruelly. I wish you would look at me—not hide your eyes. Why do you? I feel so alone;" with another deep sob. "And no one but you can help me. If you would only speak out—only hide nothing! I think I have a right to be told—I, your mother!" His chivalry could not disregard the appeal of her bitter distress, and of her lonely widowhood. He was all that she had left—all she could lean upon. Wisely or unwisely, he came to the resolution to speak out. Perhaps he was in despair of escape; perhaps—though he did not guess this till later—he had a faint hope of finding her on his side. He knew the jealousy of her love for him; and he did not allow for concomitant circumstances. "Mr. Carden-Cox will not speak—if I should marry Fulvia," he said. "Fulvia!" Mrs. Browning looked wonderingly at the set joyless face, not the face of an expectant lover speaking of his love. "If you marry Fulvia!" "That is his wish." "Fulvia! And it was my dear husband's wish! He spoke so often; but I thought—I was afraid—" "Mother, I said 'if.' It is not to be spoken about. If I ask her—" "And you will! Oh, you will! He wished it so much!" Nigel made no reply. She gazed with anxious questioning. "And if you do not—if you do not—will Mr. Carden-Cox keep our secret?" "He says—not." "Nigel; and you can hesitate!" No answer again.