Her heart bled more for Mrs. Lorimer than for herself just then. She knew
by instinct that she would not be allowed to come to her child.

The nurse was middle-aged and kindly, and both she and Jeanie liked her
from the outset. She took the night duty, and the day was Avery's, a
division that pleased them all.

Mr. Lorimer had demurred about having a nurse at all, but Avery had
swept the objection aside. Jeanie was in her care, and she would provide
all she needed. Mr. Lorimer had conceded the point as gracefully as
possible, for it seemed that for once his will could not be regarded as
paramount. Of course, as he openly reflected, Lady Evesham was very much
in their debt, and it was but natural that she should welcome this
opportunity to repay somewhat of their past kindness to her.

So, for the first time in her life, little Jeanie was surrounded with all
that she could desire; and very slowly, like a broken flower coaxed back
to life, she revived again.

It could scarcely be regarded in the light of an improvement. It was
just a fluctuation that deceived neither Avery nor the nurse; but to the
former those days were infinitely precious. She clung to them hour by
hour, refusing to look ahead to the desolation that was surely coming,
cherishing her darling with a passion of devotion that excluded all
other griefs.

The long summer days slipped away. June passed like a dream. Jeanie lay
in the tiny garden with her face to the sea, gazing forth with eyes that
were often heavy and wistful but always ready to smile upon Avery. The
holiday-task was put away, not because Mr. Lorimer had remitted it, but
because Avery--with rare despotism--had insisted upon removing it from
her patient's reach.

"Not till you are better, darling," she said. "That is your biggest duty
now, just to get back all the strength you can."

And Jeanie had smiled her wistful, dreamy smile, and submitted.

Avery sometimes wondered if she knew of the great Change that was drawing
so rapidly near. If so, it had no terrors for her; and she thanked God
that the Vicar was not at hand to terrify the child. The journey from
Rodding to Stanbury Cliffs was not an easy one by rail, and parish
matters were fortunately claiming his attention very fully just then. As
he himself had remarked more than once, he was not the man to permit mere
personal matters to interfere with Duty, and many a weak soul depended
upon his ministrations.

So Jeanie was left e