"I have Nigel's consent. To-morrow I am leaving home with Daisy. We go first to the seaside for a week—to poor uncle Arthur's favourite lodgings. After that we hope to spend some time in an old Scotch farm. The farmer's wife was once a maid in our house. She is an excellent creature and will take good care of us; and she has three or four comfortable rooms, which will be at our service. Dr. Duncan wants me to have change, and our going there has been planned for some days. Starting to-morrow for a week at Burrside first is a new notion. And I want you to come with us." Ethel was silent, her eyes open and sad. "It will not be any expense to you—if you don't mind my saying so. Perhaps you know that I have come into a little money lately, since my uncle's death. He left what he had between Nigel and me—part to each, I mean,—" rather hurriedly; "so you need not scruple." "You are very good," faltered Ethel. "But I don't think I can go." "Why?" "I don't know. I think not." "Why?" Ethel made no answer. Her colour fluttered. "I have something else to tell you. It is all over between Nigel and me." Fulvia spoke steadily. Ethel gave her one dazzled glance. "We decided yesterday that it would be right. Things are best so," said Fulvia, with resolute self-repression. She shook out her handsome mantle carelessly. "Not—really!" "Yes. I have felt for some time that it must be. Especially since—" Fulvia paused. She could not trust herself to say anything, but only some things, and she would not venture where she was not sure. "It is not a quarrel. It is simply that we both know this to be best. We shall always be a very affectionate brother and sister, no doubt,—" with a forced laugh,—"but that is all! If other people had not had their fingers in the pie, things would never have gone so far." Fulvia's manner altered. She leant over the couch, laying her gloved hand on Ethel's. "It has been a mistake," she said very low; "and we have found out our mistake. I know now how Nigel loves you—and I know that you are worthy of his love. Don't answer me—only listen! Nigel has tried hard to conquer, because—well, because he thought it right. He fancied that it was his duty to repay what I had lost—to repay it in that way. And for a little while I—thought the plan would do. I thought we might rub on together comfortably! But it will not answer. I am glad we have found out our mistake in time." There was a pause. Ethel did not speak. "He will not come to you directly. He thinks it would seem like a slight to me. That might not matter; but perhaps people would count him fickle, not understanding. So there has to be a gap—between the two. But I told him I should come and tell you how things are; and I think he was glad, though he would not consent. I did not ask his consent, for I had made up my mind. Ethel—do you at all know what you are to him?" Ethel's fingers pressed Fulvia's. That was her only answer.