"Never mind. You will know everything soon enough—too soon for my wishes. Promise me not to think about yourselves, but only about madre, and how you can best help Nigel. We have to bear what comes; but the way of bearing makes all the difference in the world."
"I'll try, of course."
"And Anice?"
"Yes—" faintly; "but what shall we have to bear?"
Fulvia was silent.
"Will Mr. Carden-Cox come exactly at tea-time, like last time?" asked Daisy, with a choke in her voice. "I hope he won't; but he is so odd, one never can tell. Shall I take mother's tea to her? And Nigel's? He has been hours and hours over those papers."
"What papers?" inquired Anice.
"I don't know; father's, I think—" in a lower tone. "All the morning, and now ever since lunch. He ought not, ought he, Fulvia? I should think he would be ill again if he does so much. Why, he has only been downstairs twice before to-day, and only for a little while."
"Has anybody been to him?"
"Yes; I went—when was it? Nearly an hour ago. I asked if he wouldn't come for a walk with me. But he seemed vexed, and said he was too busy, and couldn't be disturbed. So of course I can't try a second time."