ashing
chords of the organ sound confused and jumbled.

His hand closed firmly, sustainingly, upon her elbow.

"Come with me!" he said.

She went with him blindly, unconscious of the curious eyes that
watched her go.

He led her quietly down the church and into the porch. The air from
outside, albeit hot and sultry, was less oppressive than within. She drew
great breaths of relief as it reached her. The icy grip at her heart
seemed to relax.

Tudor watched her narrowly. "What madness brought you here?" he said
presently, as she turned at last and mustered a smile of thanks.

She countered the question. "I might ask you the same," she said.

His eyes contracted behind the shielding glasses. "So you might," he said
briefly. "Well,--I came on the chance of meeting you."

"Of meeting me!" She looked at him in surprise.

He nodded. "Just so. I want a word with you; but it can't be said here.
Give me an opportunity later if you can!"

His hand fell away from her elbow, he drew back. The bridal procession
was coming down the church.

Ina was flushed and laughing. Dick Guyes still obviously nervous, but,
also obviously, supremely happy. They went by Avery into a perfect storm
of rose-leaves that awaited them from the crowd outside. Yet for one
moment the eyes of the bride rested upon Avery, meeting hers almost as if
they would ask her a question. And behind her--immediately behind
her--came Piers.

His eyes also found Avery, and in an instant with a haughty disregard of
Tudor, he had swept her forward with him, his arm thrust imperially
through hers. They also weathered the storm of rose-leaves, and as they
went Avery heard him laugh,--the laugh of the man who fights with his
back to the wall.

They were among the first to offer congratulations to the bride and
bridegroom, and again Avery was aware of the girl's eyes searching hers.

"I haven't forgotten you," she said, as they shook hands. "I knew you
would be Lady Evesham sooner or later after that day when you kept the
whole Hunt at bay."

Avery felt herself flush. There seemed to her to be a covert insinuation
in the remark. "I was very grateful to you for taking my part," she said.

"It was rather generous certainly," agreed the bride coolly. "Dick, do
get off my train! You're horribly clumsy to-day."

The bridegroom hastened to remove himself to a respectful distance, while
Ina turned her pretty cheek to Piers. "You may salute the bride," she
said gr