"Hush, hush!" Mrs. Browning said nervously. She did not in the least know why her husband disliked any allusion to Fulvia's twenty-first birthday, but she knew that he did dislike it. His sudden movement was not lost upon her. Daisy was of a persistent nature, not easily silenced. "But, mother, you know the 21st of December is Fulvia's birthday; and we meant to have all sorts of fun. If once we go abroad, we shall never get back in time. I know we shan't." "Madre said nothing about our going, Daisy." "Well, then, that will be worse still. Horridly dull to keep your twenty-first birthday without father and mother." "Daisy, do hold your tongue. You are worrying the madre," whispered Fulvia. "Why?" in a return whisper of astonishment. "I haven't a notion. The fact is patent enough. Do let things go." Daisy subsided, and for two minutes nobody spoke. Then a peal sounded at the front door. Anice's lips parted, and her cheeks flushed. She almost said "Nigel!" "Nonsense," Fulvia replied to the motion of her lips. "Not to-night." But Simms came in. Simms was one of those unexceptionable modern men-servants who always have their wits about them, and who never can be startled. Simms prided himself on a perfect command of feature and of manner. Whatever happened, he seemed to have known it beforehand, to have been at that moment expecting it. In his usual style of composed confidence he entered, and as calmly as if announcing dinner, he said— "Pollard from the station, sir, with Mr. Nigel's luggage." "Mr. Nigel come!" cried Daisy, springing up. "No, Miss." "Not come!" echoed other voices. "No, ma'am. Pollard saw Mr. Nigel at the station, and expected him to be here first. But Mr. Nigel has not arrived." "Strange," Mr. Browning said. "Buying himself a new necktie by the way," suggested Fulvia, and Daisy's laugh sounded. But Mrs. Browning and Anice exchanged looks, their faces falling. CHAPTER III ETHEL "There is none like her, none."—TENNYSON. "I KNOW that voice. Why—it's—" Mr. Elvey did not finish the sentence. He caught Nigel's hand within two muscular palms, and nearly wrung it off. "I didn't expect to be found out. Yes, I'm back. But you mustn't keep me, Mr. Elvey. How are you all? How is—Ethel?" "Ethel's all right. The best girl that ever lived, if an old father has a right to say so. Come and see for yourself. There she is at the open window. My wife and all of them inside. How is she? Oh, much the same as always—very ailing, poor dear. Never knows what it is to be really well. But come, come along. Not keep you indeed! Rubbish and nonsense!" cried the Rector joyously, forgetting all about his own fatigue, and allowing Nigel no loophole for explanation. "Why, we were talking of you only an hour ago, wondering if the year of travel would alter you much. Has it? I can't see here. Come along—come!"