the fire burnt out, and I didn't care.
Every woman is the same to me now. I know now--and you've got to know it
too--that woman is only fit to be the servant, not the mistress, of
man,--and a damn treacherous servant at that. She was made for man's
use, and if he is fool enough to let her get the upper hand, then Heaven
help him, for he certainly won't be in a position to help himself!"

He stopped abruptly, and in the silence Piers shut and relocked
the drawer. He dropped the key into his own pocket, and came back
to the fire.

Sir Beverley looked up at him with something of an effort. "Boy," he
said, "you've got to marry some day, I know. You've got to have
children. But--you're young, you know. There's plenty of time before
you. You might wait a bit--just a bit--till I'm out of the way. I won't
keep you long; and I won't beat you often either--if you'll condescend
to stay with me."

He smiled with the words, his own grim ironical smile; but the pathos of
it cut straight to Piers' heart. He went down on his knees beside the old
man and thrust his arm about the shrunken shoulders.

"I'll never leave you again, sir," he vowed earnestly. "I've been a
heartless brute, and I'm most infernally sorry. As to marrying,
well--there's no more question of that for me. I couldn't marry Ina Rose.
You understand that?"

"Never liked the chit," growled Sir Beverley. "Only thought she'd answer
your purpose better than some. For you've got to get an heir, boy;
remember that! You're the only Evesham left."

"Oh, damn!" said Piers very wearily. "What does it matter?"

Sir Beverley looked at him from under his thick brows piercingly but
without condemnation. "It's up to you, Piers," he said.

"Is it?" said Piers, with a groan. "Well, let's leave it at that for the
present! Sure you've forgiven me?"

Sir Beverley's grim face relaxed again. He put his arm round Piers and
held him hard for a moment.

Then: "Oh, drat it, Piers!" he said testily. "Get away, do! And behave
yourself for the future!"

Whereat Piers laughed, a short, unsteady laugh, and went back to
his chair.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE DECISION

"The matter is settled," said the Reverend Stephen Lorimer, in the tones
of icy decision with which his wife was but too tragically familiar. "I
engaged Mrs. Denys to be a help to you, not exclusively to Jeanie. The
child is quite well enough to return home, and I do not feel myself
justified in incurring any further ex