out him? She reproached herself for ingratitude and
discontent. Life was a beautiful thing if only she would have it so.

She knelt down at length by the deep cushioned window-seat and began to
pray. The night was dim and quiet, and as she prayed she gradually
forgot the shadows behind her and seemed to lose herself in the
immensity of its peace. She realized as never before that by her love
she must prevail. It was the one weapon, unfailing and invincible, that
alone would serve her, when she could rely upon no other. She knew that
he had felt its influence, that there were times when he did instinctive
reverence to it, as to that which is holy. She knew moreover that there
was that within him that answered to it as it were involuntarily--a
fiery essence in which his passion had no part which dwelt deep down in
his turbulent heart--a germ of greatness which she knew might blossom
into Love Immortal.

He was young, he was young. He wanted life, all he could get of it. And
he left the higher things because as yet he was undeveloped. He had not
felt that hunger of the spirit which only that which is spiritual can
satisfy. It would come. She was sure it would come. She was watching for
it day by day. His wings were still untried. He did not want to soar. But
by-and-bye the heights would begin to draw him. And then--then they would
soar together. But till that day dawned, her love must be the guardian of
them both.

There came a slight sound in the room behind her. She turned
swiftly. "Piers!"

He was close to her. As she started to her feet his arms enclosed her. He
looked down into her eyes, holding her fast pressed to him.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," he said. "But--when I saw you were
praying--I had to come in. I wanted so awfully to know--if you would get
an answer."

"But, Piers!" she protested.

He kissed her lips. "Don't be angry, Avery! I'm not scoffing. I don't
know enough about God to scoff at Him. Tell me! Do you ever get an
answer, or are you content to go jogging on like the rest of the
world without?"

She made an effort to free herself. "Do you know, Piers, I can't talk to
you about--holy things--when you are holding me like this."

He looked stubborn. "I don't know what you mean by holy things. I'm not a
believer. At least I don't believe in prayer. I can get all I want
without it."

"I wonder!" Avery said.

She was still trying to disengage herself, but as he held her with
evident determ