"Ha! ha, ha! The girl's a thorough woman, and no mistake! Uses adjectives—pronouns, I mean—without an antecedent. That's the way to express it, I believe. Rather long since I went through Lindley Murray; but antecedents are important things, very important. 'He'! Ha, ha! As if there wasn't another 'he' in the world. But girls never think! I shall have a little fun with Miss Ethel about this. She'll appreciate the joke. Well, well, I'm glad she approves. You and she were always good friends, but—eh? what?"
Nigel was trying to edge in a question.
"Eh? Oh, only a little jest of mine in the postscript to herself, about a certain knight rescuing his faire ladye from fire and water. No, by the way, that wasn't to her; I'm forgetting—but something tantamount—you and Fulvia, you know."
"You seem rather fond of coupling my name with Fulvia's."
"Old habit of mine, my dear boy. Always did couple you together, and probably always shall. Why, now, you know yourself that nobody can take precisely the place with you that Fulvia takes—eh?"
"Perhaps not precisely; but that does not mean—"
"No; just so; it doesn't mean more, than it does mean. It only means that you are on the high-road to—No, you needn't deny it. You needn't attempt to deny anything. We are willing to wait; your father and I. Merely a matter of time, of course. But you see Ethel approves, quite approves—glad to think you are going to be so happy. Yes, certainly—in reference to that—to you and Fulvia. Good, sensible girl, Ethel Elvey. Much too sensible to expect—well, of course, she expects nothing; never did expect. You and she are good friends, no doubt; always will be. But that would never have done; never! Serious reasons against it; and your father would not consent. Entirely out of the question. Fulvia 'very nice,' &c. Might have said a little more, when she was about it. Mind, you mustn't let out that you have heard this note. She doesn't wish it to be known—about her seeing the postscript. There!" and Mr. Carden-Cox chucked his now useless half-sheet into the fire. "Daisy must go without."
Nigel was silent.
"Three of the postscripts accounted for," said Mr. Carden-Cox. He began to reckon upon the ends of his fingers. "Fulvie's, Daisy's, Ethel's. Fulvia's sent to you; Daisy's to Ethel; Ethel's to Daisy. That's it, eh? Yes, I see; plain as a pikestaff. Ethel's and Daisy's were exchanged. Then yours and Fulvia's were exchanged too. Fulvia's to you; yours, of course, to Fulvia. What is the girl after not to give it up?"
"Fulvia has not received it."