before we retire to rest."

"That will be impossible, I am afraid," Avery rejoined. "Jeanie is
overtired and must go at once to bed."

She spoke with quiet decision, but inwardly she was quivering with fierce
anger. She longed passionately to have the child to herself, to comfort
and care for her and ease away the troubles of the day.

But Mr. Lorimer at once asserted his authority. "Jeanie will certainly
join us at supper," he said. "Run along, my child, and prepare for the
meal at once!"

Jeanie went up the stairs like an old woman, stumbling at every step.

Avery followed her, chafing but impotent.

At the top of the stairs Jeanie began to cough. She turned into her own
room with blind, staggering movements and sank down beside the bed.

The coughing was spasmodic and convulsive. It shook her whole frame. In
the end there came a dreadful tearing sound, and she caught her
handkerchief to her mouth.

Avery knelt beside her, supporting her. She saw the white linen turn
suddenly scarlet, and she called sharply to Mr. Lorimer to come to them.

He came, and between them they got her on to the bed.

"This is most unfortunate," said Mr. Lorimer. "Pray how did it happen?"

And then Avery's pent fury blazed suddenly forth upon him. "It is your
doing!" she said. "You--and you alone--are responsible for this!"

He looked at her malignantly. "Pshaw, my dear Lady Evesham! You are
hysterical!" he said.

Avery was bending over the bed. "Go!" she said, without looking up. "Go
quickly, and fetch a doctor!"

And, very curiously, Mr. Lorimer obeyed her.

CHAPTER III

THE GAME

Jeanie rallied. As though to comfort Avery's distress, she came back for
a little space; but no one--not even her father--could doubt any longer
that the poor little mortal life had nearly run out.

"My intervention has come too late, alas!" said Mr. Lorimer.

Which remark was received by Avery in bitter silence.

She had no further fear of being deprived of the child. It was quite out
of the question to think of moving her, and she knew that Jeanie was hers
for as long as the frail cord of her earthly existence lasted.

She was thankful that the advent of a nurse made it impossible for the
Vicar to remain, and she parted from him with almost open relief.

"We must bow to the Supreme Will," he said, with his heavy sigh.

And again Avery was silent.

"I fear you are rebellious," he said with severity.

"Good-bye!" said Avery.