Nigel pushed his chair farther back, thereby putting his face into shade. Daisy was too intent upon her occupation to notice him.
"I thought you'd like to know, because you and Ethel always were such friends. It seemed funny that she had not been to see us; but Malcolm says she gets so easily tired she really can't walk far, most days. That's not like Ethel. Now I have done both trays. The old box is quite empty, so Fulvia may as well let me have it. There's only the place in the lid for the looking-glass; nothing else, of course. Just a piece of crumpled paper, written all over! Why, it must be part of a letter, and in Mr. Carden-Cox's handwriting. How comical of Fulvia to keep it here! I dare say she tucked it away in a hurry, and then forgot all about what she had done."
"Did what?" Nigel asked dreamily.
"This! Look; it is part of a letter. Funny of Fulvia. I think I'll see what it is about? 'N.B.—One line more. My dear fellow, you do not really mean—' Oh! Oh, I say! Oh, Nigel! Oh!"
"What's the matter now?"
Daisy's eyes were round; her mouth was open. She could only articulate, "Oh, I say!"
"Daisy, pray explain yourself. Don't be idiotic!"
"It's the lost postscript."
"Nonsense!"
"But it is! It must be! Look; it is, really! Half a sheet, and Mr. Carden-Cox's handwriting, and it begins, 'N.B.,' and it says, 'My dear fellow.' Look! That can't be Fulvia. And none of the other three was to a 'fellow.' Ethel's and Fulvia's and mine were found. I know mine was, because Mr. Carden-Cox let it out, though he made a secret of it at first—I wonder why! But yours was never found, and Mr. Carden-Cox has always declared it must have gone to Fulvia. He said she had put it away somewhere, and forgotten. But I don't see how she could forget—do you? Fulvia said she had never had it, you know."