hat sat curiously upon him, Piers submitted. He
leaned his head on his hand, and wrote.

CHAPTER XI

THE FALLING NIGHT

"You ought to rest, you know," said Tudor. "This sort of thing is
downright madness for you."

They were walking together in the February twilight along the long, dark
avenue of chestnuts that led to Rodding Abbey. Avery moved with lagging
feet that she strove vainly to force to briskness.

"I don't think I do too much," she said. "It isn't good for me to be
idle. It makes me--it makes me mope."

The involuntary falter in the words spoke more eloquently than the words
themselves, but she went on after a moment with that same forced
briskness to which she was trying to compel her dragging limbs. "I only
ran down to the Vicarage after lunch because it is Jeanie's birthday. It
is no distance across the Park. It seemed absurd to go in state."

"You are not wise," said Tudor in a tone that silenced all argument.

Avery gave a little sigh and turned from the subject. "I thought Jeanie
looking very fragile. Mrs. Lorimer has promised that she may come to me
again just as soon as I am able to have her."

"Ah! Jeanie is a comfort to you?" said Tudor.

To which she answered with a catch in her breath, "The greatest comfort."

They reached the great grey house and entered. A letter lay on the table
by the door. Avery took it up with a sharp shiver.

"Prom Piers?" asked Tudor abruptly.

She bent her head. "He writes--every week."

"When is he coming home?" He uttered the question with a directness that
sounded almost brutal, but Avery caught the note of anxiety behind it and
understood.

She opened the letter in silence, and read it by the waning light of the
open door. The crackling of the fire behind her was the only sound
within. Without, the wind moaned desolately through the bare trees. It
was going to rain.

Slowly Avery raised her head at last and gazed out into the
gathering dark.

"Come inside!" said Tudor peremptorily.

His hand closed upon her arm, he almost compelled her. "How painfully
thin you are!" he said, as she yielded. "Are you starving yourself of
food as well as rest?"

Again she did not answer him. Her eyes were fixed, unseeing. They
focused their gaze upon the fire as he led her to it. She sat down in
the chair he placed for her and then very suddenly she began to shiver
as if with an ague.

"Don't!" said Tudor sharply.

He bent over her, his hands upon her s