he felt the victory that was his to be a baffling one. He
had conquered merely because Piers of his own volition had ceased to
resist. He did not understand that sudden submission. Like Sir Beverley,
he was puzzled by it. There was about it a mysterious quality that eluded
his understanding. He would have given a good deal for a glimpse of the
motive that lay behind.

But he had to go without it. Piers was in no expansive mood. Perhaps he
might have found it difficult to explain himself even had he so desired.

Whatever the motive that had urged him, it urged him no longer, or it had
been diverted into a side-channel. For almost as soon as he was alone, he
threw himself down and scribbled a careless line to Ina Rose, advising
her to accompany her father to Mentone, and adding that he believed she
would not be bored there.

When he had despatched Victor with the letter, he flung his window wide
and leaned out of it with his eyes wide opened on the darkness, and on
his lips that smile that was not good to see.

CHAPTER XXVI

SUBSTANCE

It was a blustering spring day, and Avery, caught in a sudden storm of
driving sleet, stood up against the railings of the doctor's house,
sheltering as best she might. She was holding her umbrella well in the
teeth of the gale, and trying to protect an armful of purchases as well.

She was alone, Gracie, the black sheep, having been sent to school at the
close of the Christmas holidays, and Jeanie being confined to the house
with a severe cold. Olive, having become more and more her father's
constant companion, disdained shopping expeditions. The two elder boys
and Pat were all at a neighbouring school as weekly boarders, and though
she missed them Avery had it not in her heart to regret the arrangement.
The Vicarage might at times seem dreary, but it had become undeniably an
abode of peace.

Mrs. Lorimer was gradually recovering her strength, and Avery's care now
centred more upon Jeanie than her mother. Though the child had recovered
from her accident, she had not been really well all the winter, and the
cold spring seemed to tax her strength to the uttermost. Tudor still
dropped in at intervals, but he said little, and his manner did not
encourage Avery to question him. Privately she was growing anxious about
Jeanie, and she wished that he would be more communicative. He had
absolutely forbidden book-work, a fiat to which Mr. Lorimer had yielded
under protest.

"The chi