"Oh, perhaps—did she seem very much delighted at the idea of seeing him again?" Fulvia had an abundant share of feminine perception, and she knew, only too well, how and where to strike. Yet to give pain to Nigel was to give pain to herself, and her heart smote her as she saw his look. Then the look vanished, and she would not believe, or at least admit, that it had existed. "I thought her pleased." "One often is pleased to see a cousin, of course; at least, I should imagine so. I don't speak from experience, having no cousins. But really I can't pretend to know much about this Mr. Tom Elvey. Ethel seemed to have enjoyed his society on the whole, last summer—at least she talked about him a good deal afterwards. I don't suppose it has come to anything—yet! One never can tell what may be." Fulvia spoke in a deliberate and careless tone. Not a word that she uttered was untrue; nevertheless, she hated herself for saying what she did, saying just so much and so little. A few more words would have made all the difference. She might have told how Ethel, while talking truly "a good deal" about this cousin, had laughed at his slowness, at his ponderous jokes, at his love of bestowing information upon everybody. Not unkindly, but in a way which effectually barred any notion of an attachment between the two. Fulvia could recall how the Elvey boys had voted Tom "a bore"; and how Ethel had said, "Poor fellow! Don't be too hard on him. He does his best." But Fulvia said no more. Even while she despised herself for it, she was silent; trying to believe that her silence could make no real difference. She was at liberty to jest if she liked. Nigel might find out when he chose exactly how matters really stood. Besides, who could tell what might happen? Many a girl ends by marrying the man whom at first she criticised. If Nigel cared, he had but to ask. Nigel's next remark was in a different tone. "I must try to bring about that interview between my father and Jamie in a day or two." Dr. Duncan was commonly known at the Grange as "Jamie" or "Cousin Jamie." "Have you said anything to padre yet?" "Yes; a little. I fancy he will give way." "You don't suppose him to be really ill, do you? Not seriously?" "One can't tell. Don't mention this again, but I saw Duncan yesterday afternoon, and pressed for an opinion. He confessed he had seen for some time that my father was very much out of health, and he thought the matter ought not to be left. He would not say anything more definite." "And that is why you are so grave to-day?" The answer was evasive. "One can't help being uneasy. Jamie is not a man to look on the dismal side without some reason. Things may be better than he expects; but I don't understand my father's state, mental or bodily. He seems to take depressed views all round. Did you know that he objected to Oxford for me?" "No!" "Doesn't like the expense." "But, Nigel—why, what absurdity! As if that had not been settled years ago!"