"You really quite frighten me, Ephraim."
"You little goose, I don't want to frighten you," said Ephraim, while a faint flush suffused his features. "I'll tell you my opinion about the singing of the bird. I think, dear Viola, that our little canary knows . . . that before long it will change its quarters."
"You're surely not going to sell it or give it away?" cried the girl, in great alarm; and springing to her feet, she quickly drew her brother away from the cage.
"No, I'm not going to sell it nor give it away," said Ephraim, whose quiet bearing contrasted strongly with his sister's excitement. "Is it likely that I should do anything that would give you pain? And yet, I have but to say one word . . . and I'll wager that you will be the first to open the cage and say to the bird, 'Fly, fly away, birdie, fly away home!'"
"Never, never!" cried the girl.
"Viola," said Ephraim beseechingly, "I have taken a vow. Surely you would not have me break it?"
"A vow?" asked his sister.
"Viola," Ephraim continued, as he bent his head down to the girl's face, "I have vowed to myself that whenever he . . . our father . . . should return, I would give our little bird its freedom. It shall be free, free as he will be."
"Ephraim!"
