Fulvia went across to the morning-room, and sat within the open door, keeping watch. The watch lasted a good while. She could bear nothing at first. Hardly a sound came from the study—unless—was that Mr. Browning? Fulvia fancied she caught a slight moan. Then stillness again, except at intervals a word or so Dr. Duncan's voice, suppressed, and not as usual, cheerful. Fulvia did not know what to make of it. She had expected a continuous murmur of talk—Dr. Duncan asking questions, Mr. Browning answering. Was that the key of the study door turned? Then they were afraid that she or Mrs. Browning might walk in, and interrupt the conference? But what harm if either had? Fulvia's solitude was invaded suddenly by the return of Mrs. Browning and the girls, accompanied by Mr. Carden-Cox, who had picked them up, or been picked up by them, somewhere in the town. Fulvia, wondered what he had come for, since to her knowledge Nigel had called on Mr. Carden-Cox since breakfast. But when she saw him, nothing was farther from her thoughts than that which occupied the whole foreground of Mr. Carden-Cox's mind—the fourth postscript. "Fulvia!" was the astonished cry, as she came forward into the hall. Patchy flushes had faded during her vigil, and she looked haggard. "Fulvia downstairs! My dear, how wrong of you!" Mrs. Browning added. "It will not hurt me, madre; and one good has come of it, dear," Fulvia said, kissing Mrs. Browning. "Padre is seeing Dr. Duncan." "My husband! Then he is—" "Oh, it is nothing; really nothing," Fulvia could reply honestly in her ignorance. "Only I stupidly said something about my money—something I knew he really would like, and he was a little fussed and upset by it. And then he consented to see Dr. Duncan, and Dr. Duncan turned up in the very nick of time. So now they are having a proper consultation, and they ought not to be interrupted." "You think not? But I—" "No, indeed, madre; not even you. I would leave them to have it out, if I were you," pleaded Fulvia, taking Mrs. Browning's hands in a detaining grasp. "I would, indeed. If you go in, padre is morally certain to try to seem better or worse than he is; it doesn't matter which. I'm not speaking unkindly. You know what I mean. He won't be natural, because he will be imagining what you may think, and trying to meet it. Besides, they don't want anybody just now, for I heard the door locked. Do come into the morning-room and wait a little." "How long has James been with my husband?" Fulvia did not choose to know. She had a shrewd suspicion that the interview had already lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour; but she was not going to say as much to Mrs. Browning. And by resolutely refraining from a glance towards the hall clock, she was able to answer, "I don't exactly know. I should not think he could be much longer. Come, madre."