ir lemon fragrance all about them. Crowther compared her in his
own mind to the wonderful blossoms. She was so sweet, so pure, yet also
in a fashion so splendid.

"I think it is a very suitable setting for you, Lady Evesham!" he said.

She made a quick, impulsive movement towards him. "Do call me
Avery!" she said.

"Thank you," he answered, with a smile. "It certainly seems more natural.
How long have you been in this home of yours, may I ask?"

"Only a fortnight," she said, laughing. "Our honeymoon took ten weeks.
Piers wanted to make it ten years; but the harvest was coming on, and I
knew he ought to come back and see what was happening. And then Mr.
Ferrars resigned his seat, and it became imperative. But isn't it a
beautiful place?" she ended. "I felt overwhelmed by the magnificence of
it at first, but I am getting used to it now."

"A glorious place," agreed Crowther. "Piers must be very proud of it.
Have you begun to have many visitors yet?"

She shook her head. "No, not many. Nearly all the big people have gone
to Scotland. Piers says they will come later, but I shall not mind them
so much then. I shall feel less like an interloper by that time."

"I don't know why you should feel like that," said Crowther. Avery
smiled. "Well, all the little people think that I set out to catch Piers
for his money and his title."

"Does what the little people think have any weight with you?"
asked Crowther.

She flushed faintly under the kindly directness of his gaze. "Not really,
I suppose. But one can't quite shake off the feeling of it. There is the
Vicar for instance. He has never liked me. He congratulates me almost
every time we meet."

"Evidently a cad," commented Crowther in his quiet way.

Avery laughed a little. She had always liked this man's plain speech. "He
is not the only one," she said.

"But you have friends--real friends--also?" he questioned.

"Oh yes; indeed! The Vicarage children and their mother are the greatest
friends I have." Avery spoke with warmth. "The children are having tea
down in one of the cornfields now. We must go and see them presently. You
are fond of children, I know."

"I sort of love them," said Crowther with his slow, kind smile. "Ah,
Piers, my lad, are you trying to steal a march on us? Did you think I
didn't know?"

He spoke without raising his voice. Avery turned sharply to see her
husband standing on the steps of a room above them. One glimpse she had
of Piers' face