He took the outflung hands and held them closely, restrainingly,
soothingly.

"I won't," he said again. "Forgive me for saying so much! Poor girl!
Poor girl!"

His lips quivered a little as he said it, but his hold was full of
sustaining strength. She grew gradually calmer, and finally submitted to
the gentle pressure with which he laid her back in her chair.

"You are always so very good to me," she said presently. "I sometimes
wonder how I ever came to--to--" She stopped herself abruptly.

"To refuse me?" said Tudor quietly. "I always knew why, Lady Evesham. It
was because you loved another man. It has been the case for as long as I
have known you."

He turned from her with the words wholly without emotion and took up his
stand on the hearth-rug.

"Now may I talk to you about your health?" he said professionally.

She leaned forward slowly. "Dr. Tudor, first will you make me a promise?"

He smiled a little. "I don't think so. I never do make promises."

"Just this once!" she pleaded anxiously. "Because it means a great
deal to me."

"Well?" said Tudor.

"It is only--" she paused a moment, breathing quickly--"only that you
will not--whatever the circumstances--let Piers be sent for."

"I can't promise that," said Tudor at once.

She clasped her hands beseechingly. "You must--please--you must!"

He shook his head. "I can't. I will undertake that he shall not come to
you against your will. I can't do more than that."

"Do you suppose you could keep him out?" Avery said, a note of quivering
bitterness in her voice.

"I am quite sure I can," Tudor answered steadily. "Don't trouble
yourself on that head! I swear that, unless you ask for him, he shall
not come to you."

She shivered again and dropped back in her chair. "I shall never do
that--never--never--so long as I am myself!"

"Your wishes--whatever they are--shall be obeyed," Tudor promised
gravely.

And with that gently but very resolutely he changed the subject.

CHAPTER XII

THE DREAM

How many times had he paced up and down the terrace? Piers could not have
said. He had been there for hours, years, half a lifetime,
waiting--waiting eternally for the summons that never came.

Could it have been only that morning that Mrs. Lorimer's urgent telegram
had reached him? Only that morning that he had parted from Crowther for
the first time in six months? It seemed aeons ago. And yet here he was in
the cold grey dusk, still waiting to be