Vicary drew a long breath.
"You gave me quite a turn," he said.
"It's serious, boy," said the other man, bending his long, gaunt body forward, his grey eyes all alight. "I haven't the pluck to face her."
"Name?" said Vicary, judicially.
"Rivers," said Warrington, with reverence; "Catherine Rivers."
"Pretty Kitty Rivers!" cried Vicary. "Old man, I congratulate you."
"Don't be a fool!" said Warrington, angrily, and walked to the window.
"On your good taste, of course," said Vicary, with a grin. "Is it a bad case?"
"I shall—ask her to be my wife," said Warrington with a rush, "as soon as I dare call—which I haven't done since we've been back—more than a week."