She asked the question imperiously, no longer the elfin changeling, the fairy of bewildering moods of Austin's imagination, no longer the laughing coquette of Katherine's less picturesque fancy, but a modern young woman of character, considerably angered and very much in earnest. Austin bit his lip in perplexity. Dick looked around like a hunted animal seeking a bolting-hole.
"Dick is anxious," said Austin, at length, seeing that some explanation must be given, "that there should be no engagement between you before he goes out to Vancouver."
"Indeed?" said Viviette. "May I ask why? As this concerns Dick and myself, perhaps you will leave us alone for a moment so that Dick may tell me."
"No, no," Dick muttered hurriedly. "Don't leave us, Austin. We can't talk of such a thing now."
Again she tapped her foot impatiently.
"Yes, now. I'm going to hear the reason now, whatever it is."
The brothers exchanged glances. Dick turned to the window, and stared at the mellow evening sky.
Austin again was spokesman.
"Dick finds he has made a terrible and cruel mistake. One that concerns you intimately."
"Whatever Dick may have done with regard to me," replied Viviette, "I forgave him for it beforehand. When once I give a thing I don't take it back. I have given him my love and my promise."