"What for?"
He handed her Mr. Carden-Cox's note.
Ethel read it with a flush of delight. "Oh, that would be nice! That would be delightful!" Then a shade of doubt came. "But I am afraid I can't."
"But you must—you must indeed," urged Nigel, almost in despair. "We shall not have another day like this all the winter. Mrs. Elvey will say you must."
"No; she will say I may if I like. That makes all the difference."
"Your father—"
"He is gone out, and he won't be back till one o'clock. It doesn't matter. Even if he said that I might, I don't think I could feel that I ought."
"But if things could be arranged somehow—if it is only possible! Do just try—for my sake, won't you? Tell Mrs. Elvey that I want it, and remind her how long I have been away. Do see if it can't be done."
"I'll speak to my mother," Ethel said, and vanished.
Nigel waited with the best patience he could muster till she came quickly in, her step so light and her face so sunny that he said joyfully, "That's right! I knew you could."