"Oh, that's nothing—she's just afraid! It's settled all the same. And within my ten minutes!"
"Aye, you're a—!" He smiled in grim fierce admiration.
"Shall I take three months' notice, Mr. Wellgood?" She was lying back in her chair again, insolent and serenely defiant. "I might have betted after all, and been quite safe," she said.
Harry victorious in conquest, Vivien with her more precious conquest in surrender, were at Wellgood's elbow. He had to wrench himself away from his own devices.
"Well, what have you got to say, Vivien?" he asked his daughter rather sharply. She was looking more than usually timid. What was there to be frightened at?
"She hasn't got anything to say," Harry interposed gaily. "I'm going to do the talking. Are you feeling romantic to-day, Mr. Wellgood?"
Wellgood smiled sourly. "You know better than to try that on me, Master Harry."
"Yes! Well, I'll cut that, but I just want to mention—as a matter of business, which may affect your arrangements—that Vivien has promised to marry me."
Vivien had stolen up to her father and now laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. He looked at her with a kindly sneer, then patted her hand. "You like the fellow, do you, Vivien?"
"Yes, father."