Dick groped his way to the door. It were better for both that he should
not stay. Austin, left alone, laughed, not unkindly. Dear old Dick! It
was a shame to tease him--but what a different expression his honest
face would wear to-morrow! When the maid brought in his coffee he sipped
it with enjoyment, forgetful for once of its lack of excellence.

There was one person, however, in the house who saw things clearly; and
the more clearly she saw them the less did they seem satisfactorily
ordered. This was Katherine Holroyd, a sympathetic observer and
everybody's intimate. She had known the family since her childhood,
spent in a great neighbouring house which had now long since passed from
her kin into alien hands. She had known Viviette when she first came,
with her changeling face, a toddling child of three, to the Manor House.
She had grown up with the brothers. Until her marriage the place had
been her second home. Her married life, mostly spent abroad, had
somewhat broken the intimacy. But her widowhood after the first few
hopeless months had renewed it, although her visits were comparatively
rare. On the other hand, her little daintily-furnished London house in
Victoria square was always open to such of the family as happened to be
in town. Now, as Austin was the most frequently in town, seeing that he
lived there all the year round, with the exception of the long vacation
and odd flying visits to Warwickshire, to Austin was her door most
frequently open. A deep affection existed between them, deeper perhaps
than either realised. To be purely brotherly in attitude towards a woman
whom you are fond of and who is not your sister, and to be purely
sisterly in your attitude towards a man whom you are fond of and who is
not your brother, are ideals of spiritual emotion very difficult to
attain in this respectably organised but sex-ridden world.