Fulvia's wandering gaze concentrated itself on him, while he stood, resting one arm on the back of a chair, apparently not even seeing her. "Then—Ethel is gone!" she said, gasping. "It was too late? And I—I—the cause!" She turned her burning face away, and wrung her hands together, breaking into a wail of distress, like a child, and then she found Dr. Duncan's hand upon her arm. "Hush! You are over-excited. Ethel is better." "Not dead! But Nigel looks—" Fulvia broke off. "He looks—! Was Ethel saved? She—went down the river,—" with a bewildered glance round. "I can't explain. I feel so strange! Is this the way people go out of their minds?"—and there was a short laugh. "Feel my hand; I am all on fire. But think—think of Ethel! The branch was breaking, and she let go—for my sake! And she is not drowned. I thought she must be drowned. Not drowned, you say? You are sure—quite sure?" "Yes." Until then Fulvia's rapid utterances allowed no space for reply. "Perfectly sure." "How do you know? Have you seen her? Has Nigel?" "Malcolm and Nigel were coming up the river in their boat—just in time." "And she is—not the worse?" "She will suffer, of course; but we were able—mercifully—to bring her round." "She will get over it—will get well? Promise me!" "I trust so, in time. We have taken her home, and my wife will stay there all night. I have come now to see you." "I! Oh, that does not matter. What does anything signify about me? If you will save Ethel—people love Ethel, you know. And for Nigel's sake! It doesn't matter about me! Why don't you go back to Ethel? She ought not to be left. She might die; and if she did, Nigel would die too. Look! Can't you see?" "Fulvia, you are wrong! You must not give way like this," said Dr. Duncan in a low voice. "Why not? I may do as I like. Who cares?" She turned petulantly from him, and with uneven steps walked across to Nigel. Dr. Duncan would not follow her. He sent Daisy from the room, on some slight pretext, and at once set himself to engross Mrs. Browning's attention. Fulvia cared little, in her then mood, whether or no she was observed. She stood in front of Nigel, who had remained silent since his first entrance, and her intent gaze caused a slight movement, as if he shrunk from it—or from her. "Have you been so frightened about Ethel?" she asked. "Yes." "Not about—?" Nigel understood. "I did not know of your danger too, Fulvia, till—" he said in a low voice, and then he faltered, as if scarcely knowing how to continue. "Yes—till when?" "Jamie told me—half-an-hour ago, I believe—I am not sure." "No; that was a secondary matter," said Fulvia. Her face hardened, and her tone grew harsh. "If you had known us both to be drowning, would you have left Ethel to come to me?" Nigel attempted no answer. "Nigel—look at me!" she said sharply—even imperiously, as she had before spoken to Daisy. "Look at me, and answer. Why should you be afraid? Would you have left Ethel to come to me?"