hat were wholly vain, to force the bars asunder and
come to her. She could not help him, could not even hear his voice. But
the agony of his eyes haunted her--haunted her. She awoke at last in
anguish of spirit, and slept no more.

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE SUMMONS

With the morning came a general feeling of relief. The Vicar was almost
jocose, and Mrs. Lorimer made timid attempts to be mirthful though the
parting with her children sorely tried her fortitude.

The boys' spirits were subdued, but they burst forth uproariously as soon
as the station-cab was well outside the gate. Ronald and Julian cheered
themselves hoarse, and Pat scuttled off to the back of the house to
release Mike from his chain to participate in the great rejoicing.

There was no disguising the fact that everyone was pleased--everyone
except Olive who went away to her father's study which had been left
in her especial charge, and locked herself in for a morning of
undisturbed reading.

Avery could not feel joyful. The thought of Piers was still with her
continually. She had heard so little of him--merely that he had followed
his grandfather to the grave supported by the old family solicitor from
Wardenhurst, Lennox Tudor, and a miscellaneous throng of neighbours; that
he had borne himself without faltering, and had gone back to his solitude
with no visible sign of suffering. Only indirectly had she heard this,
and she yearned to know more.

She knew that like herself he was practically devoid of relatives,--the
last of his race,--a figure of splendid isolation that would appeal to
many. She knew that as a wealthy and unmarried baronet, he would be
greatly sought after and courted; made much of by the whole county, and
half London as well. He was so handsome, so romantic, so altogether
eligible in every way. Was it for this that he had left that note of
hers unanswered? Did he think that now that his horizon had widened the
nearer haven was hardly worth attaining? Above all, if he decided to
take that which she had so spontaneously offered, would it satisfy him?
Would he be content therewith? Had she not done better to have waited
till he came again to ask of her that which she had till the day of his
bereavement withheld?

It was useless to torture herself with such questionings. Because of her
promise to the dead, she had acted, and she could now but await the
result of her action. If he never answered,--well, she would understand.

So pas