full of thought for sleep. Till then, she had not had
time to review the day's happenings, but they crowded upon her as she
lay, driving away all possibility of repose.

What was she going to do? Over and over again she asked herself the
question, bringing herself as it were each time to contemplate afresh the
obstacle that had arisen in her path. Had she really promised to marry
Piers? The Squire evidently thought she had. The memory of those last
words of his came back to her again and again. He had been very much in
earnest, very anxious to provide for his boy's future, desperately afraid
of leaving him alone. How would he view his impetuous action, she
wondered, on the morrow? Had he not even now possibly begun to repent?
Would he really desire her to take him literally?

And Piers,--what of Piers? A sudden, warm thrill ran through her. She
glowed from head to foot. She had not seen Piers since that morning by
the sea. She had a feeling that he was purposely avoiding her, and yet
deep in the secret heart of her she knew that what she had rejected over
and over again was still irrevocably her own. He would come back to her.
She knew he would come back. And again that strange warmth filled her
veins. The memory of him just then was like a burst of sunshine after a
day of storm.

He had not been at home when Julian had taken the news of the Squire's
accident to the Abbey, and only menservants had come to the rescue. She
had accompanied them part of the way back, but Tudor had overtaken them
in the drive, and she and the boys had turned back. Sir Beverley had been
exhausted and but half-conscious, and he had not uttered another word to
her. She wished Dr. Tudor had looked in on his way home, and then
wondered if the Squire's condition were such as to necessitate his
spending the night at the Abbey. He had once told her that Sir Beverley
suffered from a weakness of the heart which might develop seriously at
any time; but though himself fully aware of the fact, the old man had
never permitted Piers to be told. She had deemed it unfair to Piers, but
it was no matter for interference. A great longing to know what was
happening possessed her. Surely--surely Mr. Lorimer would send up in the
morning to enquire!

Her thoughts took another turn. She had been given definite notice to go.
In her efforts to console Mrs. Lorimer, and the children, she had
scarcely herself realized all that it would imply. She began to picture
th