ve ever really felt it."

"Not to the full," Avery answered, her voice very low. "Then I was too
young. Mine was just a child's rapture and it was simply extinguished
when I came to know the kind of burden I had to bear. It all faded so
quickly, and the reality was so terribly grim. Now--now I look on the
world with experienced eyes. I am too old."

"You think experience destroys romance?" said Tudor.

She looked at him. "Don't you?"

"No," he said. "If it did, I do not think you would be afraid to marry
me. Don't think I am trying to persuade you! I am not. But are you sure
that in refusing me you are not sacrificing substance to shadow?"

"I don't quite understand you," she said.

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I can't be more explicit. No doubt
you will follow your own instincts. But allow me to say that I don't
think you are the sort of woman to go through life unmated; and though I
may not be romantic, I am sound. I think I could give you a certain
measure of happiness. But the choice is yours. I can only bow to your
decision."

There was a certain dignity in his speech that gave it weight. Avery
listened in silence, and into silence the words passed.

Several seconds slipped away, then without effort Tudor came back to
everyday things. "Sit down, won't you? Your tea is getting cold."

Avery sat down, and he handed it to her, and after a moment turned aside
to the table.

"As a matter of fact," he said, "I have just come back from the
Vicarage."

"Oh, have you?" Avery looked round quickly. "You went to see Jeanie?"

"Yes." Tudor spoke gravely. "I also saw the Vicar. I told him the child
must go away. That cough of hers is tearing her to pieces. She ought to
go to the South Coast. I told him so."

"Oh! What did he say?" Avery spoke with eagerness. She had been longing
to suggest that very proposal for some time past.

Tudor smiled into his cup. "He said it was a total impossibility. That
was the starting-point. At the finish it was practically decided that
you should take her away next week."

"I!" said Avery.

"Yes, you. Mrs. Lorimer will manage all right now. The nurse can look
after her and the little ones without assistance. And the second
girl--Olive isn't it?--can look after the Reverend Stephen. It's all
arranged in fact, unless it fails to meet with your approval, in which
case of course the whole business must be reconsidered."

"But of course I approve," Avery said. "I would do a