"Has Mr. Carden-Cox been saying anything to worry you?" she asked.
She had no business to ask the question, and she knew it, even before saying the words; but at the moment the temptation was too strong. And at once Fulvia knew that she had lost ground with him. She had done the very thing for which she lately had so blamed Anice—had catechised where she held no right to catechise.
Nigel was silent, but his gravity held now a tinge of displeasure.
Fulvia had far too much tact to persevere in a mistake.
"I beg your pardon," she said. "It was rude of me. Of course I ought not to expect an answer." Yet she did expect, and was disappointed that none came.
"Did you say you wished to speak to my father?" inquired Nigel, after a pause.
"Yes. I'll go to the study. He is there, isn't be? One can so seldom get hold of him alone—I mean, without madre. I don't mean you." She paused and looked at him earnestly. "Am I forgiven?"
"For what?"
"You know. Meddling in your concerns."
"Sisters are supposed to be at liberty to say what they like," Nigel replied, smiling; but it was not his usual smile.