He was in higher spirits than he had been for many weeks, nobody guessing why. Nobody knew of the interview in the vestry. Even the knowledge of his father's state could not depress him, this first morning after the lifting of his own heavy cloud, though it did keep down, to a moderate pitch, the spirits which would otherwise have been wild. He had his dreamy spells, too; going over and over in mind the words which had passed between him and Ethel, wondering whether he had taken it too much for granted that she might care for him, and whether he had said enough to be understood, but always coming round to a glad remembrance of the last emphatic "Yes! Yes!"
The sunshine in his eyes perplexed Fulvia; he had been so grave lately. Then she made up her mind that her birthday was the cause; he wanted to please her by making it a cheerful day. Fulvia responded to the supposed wish with all her heart. There had not been such an amount of fun in the breakfast-room for many a week, as on that morning of December 21st.
Snow had ceased falling, and a slow thaw had set in, rendering the streets slushy, while the air was full of cold moisture. Fulvia and Daisy braved the weather in a brisk morning walk; Anice remaining indoors as a matter of course. Fulvia had hoped for Nigel's company, and was disappointed, for he vanished. Where he went he did not say, and Fulvia had learned not to question him; she was not one who needed the same lesson twice over.
At luncheon, he looked sunnier than ever; yet Mr. Browning was still in complete retirement. None but his wife had spoken to him.
More oddly, Mr. Carden-Cox had not appeared, and this perplexed everybody.
"Why, he always gives Fulvia something nice," protested the aggrieved Daisy, desiring excitement. "Surely he won't forget! And doesn't father mean to speak to Fulvia? So odd! On her birthday! As if she were in disgrace!"
"He will do as he chooses," Fulvia answered.
It was getting on for the time of afternoon tea; and the aspect of the Newton Bury atmosphere, through glass panes, was not inviting. Nigel had been upstairs since lunch, supposed to be reading; and the three girls were spending their afternoon over the drawing-room fire, having indulged themselves into a state of easy-chair inertia.
Even Fulvia was not proof against the lazy mood—until Nigel appeared. She brightened up then, and replied to Daisy's complaints with her usual elastic air.
"Of course he will. Everybody does," said Daisy. "But I don't see that people ought. I think he ought to come out of his den for just a little while. Nigel! What have you got? Chestnuts! How lovely! We'll have some fun now!"