Mrs. Browning yielded, as every one in the house did more or less yield, to Fulvia's authority, when she chose to exert it. And they adjourned to the morning-room, leaving the door open by a kind of tacit agreement, in readiness to capture Dr. Duncan when he should appear. Fulvia said nothing as to Nigel's presence within the study. Mr. Carden-Cox was "splitting" to introduce his own subject, finding each moment's delay insufferable, and Daisy, who had already heard the tale, came to his help. "Fulvie, what do you think?" she cried, lounging against a sofa arm. "Fulvie! Do you know, one of Mr. Carden-Cox's postscripts has actually vanished! Nobody knows what has become of it." Had Fulvia guessed what might be coming, she would not have placed herself in her present position, facing the window, with the light falling full upon her, Mrs. Browning by her side, Mr. Carden-Cox and the two girls exactly in her front. But it would not do to make an instant move. Something would be suspected. She braced herself for the encounter with a strong effort, comforted by a certainty that Mr. Carden-Cox would be vague in his notions. His first words seemed to lend support to this theory. "Stupid thing, wasn't it?—Yes, I couldn't have believed it of myself. Eh, Fulvia! Fancy the old uncle mixing up a lot of postscripts, and sending them all wrong! Putting 'N.B.' in place of 'P.S.'! Fudge! Wouldn't have believed it of myself, if somebody else had told the tale. However—however—however—" He paused, looking hard at Fulvia. She leant back in her chair, and returned the gaze with an air of indifference. Fulvia had considerable power of acting on occasions, when strung up to the mark. "Doesn't look guilty," muttered Mr. Carden-Cox. The words sent a slight shock through every nerve, yet she did not visibly wince. "I wonder if—" she began, looking towards the hall. "No, no; no hurry—not yet; you said yourself, better wait. Interviews shouldn't be interrupted—important interviews. Duncan knows what he is about; doesn't want our advice. Eh? Sit still. What's the matter?" with a suspicious glance, which brought her instantly to quiescence. She let one hand drop upon the other, and waited. "I say, Fulvie, do you know anything of these precious postscripts?" "Anything!" Fulvia repeated calmly, with a lift of her eyebrows. "I know that you must have been in a very mixed state of mind when you sent them off." "Tut, tut! Do you know anything of the missing one?" Fulvia could not, with all her will, prevent a fluttering blush. It deepened slowly. "I did not even know that one had been missed," she said, carefully truthful thus far.