The mere fact that she was able calmly to write such words to Mr. Carden-Cox seemed to him conclusive. He did not feel that he could have done it in her place, if he had cared one tithe as much as he cared now! Of course not. But he was a man, and she was a woman. In his estimate of things, he forgot to allow for this fact. Then her manner to him, when he had seen her last, the sudden coldness and indifference! Was it that she had just read by mistake the postscript meant for Daisy, whatever the postscript might have contained? Something undoubtedly had aroused her to the sense of a certain need to show Nigel that he must not think of her. Tom Elvey! Yes, that was it, no doubt. That was at the bottom of the tangle. Fulvia's words on the steam-yacht had been almost driven out of Nigel's mind by succeeding events, and by his first meeting afterward with Ethel; but now they returned in full strength. Ethel had been so pleased and thankful, after the adventure, showing perhaps under excitement more warmth than she felt on consideration to be right. Probably she feared to mislead Nigel. As his friend and old playmate she would rejoice in his escape—perhaps also for Fulvia's sake, if she held the notion about him and Fulvia—but it was very evident that she wished Nigel now to understand the moderate nature of her feelings. Tom Elvey, to wit! Nigel sighed as he entered the Grange gates. Nobody was at hand to hear. CHAPTER XIV SOMETHING WRONG—BUT WHAT? "I do not greatly care to be deceived."—SHAKESPEARE. "O mad mistake, With repentance in its wake."—JEAN INGELOW. "FULVIA!" Nigel said in surprise. She was creeping downstairs, step by step, evidently uncertain as to the extent of her own powers. Nigel walked to the mat at the foot of the flight, and stood there looking up, while Fulvia came to a pause four steps above, resting and looking down. Her face broke into a smile, half mischievous, half apologetic; and then the smile vanished, for it gained no response. His features were set and pale, even stern. "Don't be angry," she said. "I shall collapse if you are. It's as much as I can do to manage the descent." "What made you leave your room?" "What made me? My own naughty will, I suppose. Nobody else's, certainly. Madre is out shopping with the girls, so I thought I would use my opportunity. I'm tired of seclusion." "Have you your doctor's leave?" "I didn't ask it. He has not been yet. Besides, if one is bent on one's own way, it's no use to court forbiddal." "I don't think you are right." "Perhaps not; but you needn't look so awfully solemn. What is the matter?" She came down the last steps in tremulous style, laughing at herself, and put a hand on his arm. "Anything gone wrong? Have you seen Mr. Carden-Cox?" "Yes. Where are you going?" "I'm bent on a talk with the padre; but I must rest for five minutes first. Yes, please help me."