No answering sound came from Nigel, and the doctor's glance fell on him again.
"We are too many here. The less the better. Yes, go for a little while—" to Malcolm. Then in a lower voice, "Take that poor fellow into another room."
"But there is hope?"
"I trust so. We have no time to lose. Now, Mrs. Willis—"
Malcolm did not wait for more. He had complete faith in Duncan's skill and kindness. Mr. Dacres lingered, while Malcolm slipped an arm through Nigel's, and drew him from the kitchen regions into the clergyman's little study.
"Cheer up," he said gravely. "It will not be so bad, Nigel,—thank God. Dr. Duncan does not fear the worst. Cheer up, my dear fellow; we may hope now."
Nigel had never broken quite down through all the pain and grief of past months; but he broke down now. His face was hidden, bowed low on his crossed arms, and the whole frame shook. No sobs were audible, yet Malcolm knew what it meant. He drew the bolt softly, for none but himself might see this; and he could only look on in silence, with eyes full of tears, till the worst was over.
Mrs. Browning and Daisy were inadequate to the management of Fulvia, when Fulvia chose to take the bit between her teeth. It was all very well for Mrs. Duncan to send directions that Fulvia ought to go to bed. Mrs. Bramble delivered the message faithfully, but Fulvia refused to obey.
"How cam, I, till I know about Ethel?" she asked. "Take care of myself when Ethel is perhaps—oh, if they had only let me stay to hear! It was cruel to hurry me away. But Nigel will soon be at home, and he can find out. I must stay downstairs till Nigel comes. Not good for me! What does that matter? What do I care? I only want to know if Ethel is safe."
She built her hopes upon Nigel's return, which seemed to be unaccountably delayed. Meantime she had consented to change her soaked clothing, and to dispose of what Daisy called "a hot drink." Then, as she shivered incessantly, despite her warm shawl, a fire was lighted in the study, and Fulvia cowered over it.