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." "My dear," said Austin, gravely and kindly. "Here are two men who have loved you all your life. Don't think hardly of us. You must be brave and bear a great shock. Dick can't marry you." She looked at him incredulously. "Can't marry me? Why not?" "It would be better not to ask." She moved swiftly to Dick, and with her light touch swung him round to face the room. "I don't understand. Is it because you're going out into the wilds? That doesn't matter. I told you I would go to Vancouver with you. I want to go. My happiness is with you." Dick groaned. "Don't make it harder for me." "What are you keeping from me?" she asked. "Is it anything you don't think fit for my ears? If so, speak. I'm no longer a child. Is there another woman in the case?" She met Austin's eyes full. He said: "No, thank God! Nothing of that sort." And as her eyes did not waver, he made the bold stroke. "He finds that he doesn't love you as much as he thought. There's the whole tragedy in a few words." She reeled back as if struck. "Dick doesn't love me?" Then the announcement seemed so grotesque in its improbability that she began to laugh, a trifle hysterically. "Is this true?" "It's quite true," said poor Dick. "You see, my dear," said Austin, "what it costs him--what it costs us both--to tell you this." "But I don't understand. I don't understand!" she cried, with sudden piteousness. "What did you mean, then--a little while ago--in the armoury?" Austin, who did not see the allusion, had to allow Dick to speak for himself. "I was drunk," said Dick desperately. "I've been drinking heavily of late--and not accountable for my actions. I oughtn't to have done what I did." "And so, you see," continued Austin, with some eagerness, "when he became confronted with the great change in his life--Vancouver--he looked at things soberly. He found that his feelings towards you were not of the order that would warrant his making you his wife." Before Viviette could reply the door opened, and Mrs. Ware and Katherine entered the room. Mrs. Ware, ignorant of tension, went smilingly to Austin, and, drawing down his shapely head with both hands, kissed him. "My dear, dear boy, I'm so glad, so truly glad. Katherine has just told me." "Told you what, mother?" asked Viviette quickly, with a new sharpness in her voice. Mrs. Ware turned a beaming face. "Can't you guess, darling? Oh, Austin, there's no living woman whom I would sooner call my daughter. You've made me so happy." The facile tears came, and she sat down and dried them on her little wisp of handkerchief.