et things be.

"I confess I find great difficulty in following you. I should like to
hear William's side of the story," he said irritably. "I think he ought
to have spoken to me in the first instance."

"I wouldn't let him," said Katharine. "I know it must seem to you very
strange," she added. "But I assure you, if you'd wait a little--until
mother comes back."

This appeal for delay was much to Mr. Hilbery's liking. But his
conscience would not suffer it. People were talking. He could not endure
that his daughter's conduct should be in any way considered irregular.
He wondered whether, in the circumstances, it would be better to wire to
his wife, to send for one of his sisters, to forbid William the
house, to pack Cassandra off home--for he was vaguely conscious of
responsibilities in her direction, too. His forehead was becoming more
and more wrinkled by the multiplicity of his anxieties, which he was
sorely tempted to ask Katharine to solve for him, when the door opened
and William Rodney appeared. This necessitated a complete change, not
only of manner, but of position also.

"Here's William," Katharine exclaimed, in a tone of relief. "I've told
father we're not engaged," she said to him. "I've explained that I
prevented you from telling him."

William's manner was marked by the utmost formality. He bowed very
slightly in the direction of Mr. Hilbery, and stood erect, holding one
lapel of his coat, and gazing into the center of the fire. He waited for
Mr. Hilbery to speak.

Mr. Hilbery also assumed an appearance of formidable dignity. He had
risen to his feet, and now bent the top part of his body slightly
forward.

"I should like your account of this affair, Rodney--if Katharine no
longer prevents you from speaking."

William waited two seconds at least.

"Our engagement is at an end," he said, with the utmost stiffness.

"Has this been arrived at by your joint desire?"

After a perceptible pause William bent his head, and Katharine said, as
if by an afterthought:

"Oh, yes."

Mr. Hilbery swayed to and fro, and moved his lips as if to utter remarks
which remained unspoken.

"I can only suggest that you should postpone any decision until the
effect of this misunderstanding has had time to wear off. You have now
known each other--" he began.

"There's been no misunderstanding," Katharine interposed. "Nothing at
all." She moved a few paces across the room, as if she intended to
leave them. Her pre