Suddenly, at the end, understanding came in a flood. One moment she was smiling under the gas-burner in amused perplexity; the next instant she saw the whole as with a flash of lightning.
This postscript was to Daisy Browning, not to herself. She, Ethel Elvey, and not Fulvia Rolfe, was "the other girl," whom Nigel might never marry—whom, indeed, he had no wish to marry.
Ethel did not give the sheet another glance. There was no need, for she knew it all by heart. More especially those words, "Nigel will never marry her!" were stamped upon her memory. They seemed to settle the matter finally.
She stood quietly; her eyes fixed on the opposite wall; but she could not see or think. No tears came, only a numb sensation, reaching down to her finger-tips; and, indeed, those little fingers were all at once strangely cold.
"I say, Ethel—Eth-el!" called Lance imperiously.
"Coming!" cried Ethel.
She folded the half-sheet, and thrust it into her pocket, absolutely forgetting at the moment that it was not her own. "O Nigel, Nigel!" a voice within her heart was wailing sadly; and as she crossed the hall towards the schoolroom, he entered by the front door.
"Ethel, I'm just come to bring—"
He paused a moment to pull off his glove, and grasp her hand. Ethel's fingers lay in his, not returning the pressure. He looked so bright, so pleased to be there. For one moment she could have believed it all a bad dream. But those words were with her still—he would never marry her! He did not really wish it! Not really! No; why should he? He was only her old kind affectionate playfellow; and she had to be the same to him, expecting nothing beyond, and taking care that nobody should think she could expect anything beyond. That last item was the difficulty—how to guard her own position, and yet not to give him pain. At the present moment such a line of conduct was not even possible. She had to give him pain; and at the very moment that her fingers touched his, the grave shadow which she so well know, and which she never could see without a heartache, crept over his eyes.
"I'm come to bring part of your letter from Mr. Carden-Cox, posted to Daisy. He scorns to have been in a state of confusion. There was a postscript for Fulvia sent to me, and Daisy received this, which she says is yours. Daisy read it before she discovered the blunder, and she wants me to apologise."