"Wondering if you will ever be anything but a child."
"Not till I'm an old maid," promptly responded Daisy. "But is it childish to like diamonds?"
"That depends on the mode of liking—and the manner of expression."
"Oh, well, I can't help it. People must take me as I am. There, now things begin to look jolly. I hope Fulvia will keep to my arrangement. The pink cotton-wool is pretty, isn't it?—under silver and pearl. See, I've made quite a bed of it in one place for the silver Maltese brooches, and the gold filigree things are opposite. You won't need to buy lots of jewellery when you are married, because your wife will have enough."
"That's fortunate, since I shall not have lots of spare money."
"Yes; isn't it a pity Fulvia won't be rich? Now, I'll put the chains into this tray. Nigel—" with one of her sudden flights into a new region—"have you seen Ethel Elvey yet?"
"No."
"I thought you might. You did call one day, didn't you? Anice said you had, and she said you found everybody out. But Ethel does look so altered, you can't think!"
"How!"
"I don't know. You'll see. Her face seems to have shrunk, and her eyes have grown so big. She laughed and talked just as she always does, but somehow—I thought—I don't exactly know what, only she didn't seem like herself. Malcolm told me yesterday that she has not been well for ever so long. She has never quite got over that bad cold, and the fever coming after it. At least Malcolm seemed to think it was that. Poor Ethel! I am so sorry."