"Nothing much. I have a stupid headache—" running hit fingers through his hair,—"and Mr. Bramble has let me off. The figures were all turning into live creatures. Will you come for a walk with me?"
"Oh yes!" Fulvia was ready to leave anything. She could never hesitate about a request of Nigel's. "You are sure you are not ill?"—for he looked unusually pale. Then a jealous fear darted into her mind: had he seen Ethel? She could not put the question, but Daisy ran in and asked it for her.
"Going out, Fulvia? And you in such a hurry to have things done! But I shan't work at them if you are out. And Nigel home so early! Oh I say, Nigel, only think! Ethel has come home at last. They couldn't do without her any longer. I met her just now, and I dare say you did too."
"No; I met Malcolm on my way to the Bank, and he told me."
Nigel said no more.
Fulvia could only wonder silently—was that the cause of his sudden indisposition? He had been well enough in the morning.
They had their walk, and Nigel talked more than usual, exerting himself to be agreeable; but Fulvia was conscious of effort, even of strain, on his part. She scolded herself for fancies, yet the impression remained.
Ethel did not come quickly to call, as Fulvia expected; neither did Nigel seem in haste to go to the Rectory. Daisy went, and found Ethel out. Days passed, and, beyond the one encounter, none of the Brownings had seen her. Bourne Street was a good way off from Church Square.
Nothing had been seen or heard of Mr. Carden-Cox for weeks. Except that he sat in his usual seat at church, and was occasionally to be perceived walking or driving along a busy street, he might, so far as the Brownings were concerned, have dropped out of existence altogether.
"I detest family quarrels," Nigel said more than once. "But what is to be done? It is his place to take the first step."