Avery did not stir for several seconds; and when she did it was to go to the open door and stand there looking out into the spring sunshine. She felt strangely incapable of grasping what had happened. She could not realize that that dominant personality that had striven with her only yesterday--only yesterday--had passed utterly away in a few hours. It seemed incredible, beyond the bounds of possibility. Again and again Sir Beverley's speech and look returned to her. How emphatic he had been, how resolutely determined to attain his end! He had discharged his obligation, as he had said. He had paid his last debt. And in the payment of it he had laid upon her a burden which she had felt compelled to accept. Would it prove too much for her, she wondered? Had she yet again taken a false step that could never be retraced? Again the thought of Piers went through her, piercing her like a sword. Piers alone! Piers in trouble! She wished that Dr. Tudor had answered her question even though she regretted having asked it. How would he bear his solitude, she wondered with an aching heart; and a sudden great longing arose within her to go and comfort him, as she alone possessed the power to comfort. All selfish considerations departed with the thought. She realized poignantly all that Sir Beverley had visualized when he had told her that very soon his boy would be all alone. She knew fully why he had pressed upon her the task of helping Piers through his dark hour. He had known--as she also knew--how sore would be his need of help. And as this came home to her, her strength--that strength which was the patient building of all the years of her womanhood--came back to her, and she felt renewed and unafraid. She returned to her work with a steadfastness of purpose that even Miss Whalley viewed with distant admiration; working throughout the morning while the minute bell tolled overhead, rendering honour to the departed Squire. When she left at length to return to the Vicarage for the midday meal, her portion was done. But it was not till night came again that she found time to write the few brief words that she had been revolving in her mind all day long. "DEAR PIERS, "I am thinking of you constantly, and longing to help you in your trouble. Let me know if there is anything whatever that I can do, and I shall be ready at any time. "With love from Avery." Her face glowed softly over the writing of the note. She slipped out and posted it before she went to bed. He would get it in the morning, and he would be comforted. For he would understand. She was sure that he would understand. Of herself all through that second wakeful night she did not think at all, and so no doubts rose to torment her. She lay in a species of tired wonder. She was keeping her promise to the dead man, and in the keeping of it there was peace.