"I am sure there is something worrying her," the latter said to Mrs. Lorimer. "I can't think what it is." But directly Mrs. Lorimer was alone with Avery, the trouble came out. For she reached out fevered hands to her, saying, "Why, oh, why did you persuade me to come back here? I knew he would come if I did!" Again the emergency impelled Mrs. Lorimer to a display of common-sense with which few would have credited her. "Oh, do you mean Piers, dear?" she said. "But surely you are not afraid of him! He has been here all the time--ever since you were so ill." "And I begged you not to send!" groaned Avery. "My dear," said Mrs. Lorimer very gently, "it was his right to be here." "Then that night--that night--" gasped Avery, "he really did come to me--that night after the baby was born." "My darling, you begged for him so piteously," said Mrs. Lorimer apologetically. Avery's lip quivered. "That was just what I feared--what I wanted to make impossible," she said. "When one is suffering, one forgets so." "But surely it was the cry of your heart, darling," urged Mrs. Lorimer tremulously. "And do you know--poor lad--he looks so ill, so miserable." But Avery's face was turned away. "I can't help it," she said. "I can't--possibly--see him again. I feel as if--as if there were a curse upon us both, and that is why the baby died. Oh yes, morbid, I know; perhaps wrong. But--I have been steeped in sin. I must be free for a time. I can't face him yet. I haven't the strength." "Dearest, he will never force himself upon you," said Mrs. Lorimer. Avery's eyes went instinctively to the door that led into the room that Piers had occupied after his marriage. The broken bolt had been removed, but not replaced. A great shudder went through her. She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, beg him--beg him to go away," she sobbed, "till I am strong enough to go myself!" Argument was useless. Mrs. Lorimer abandoned it with the wisdom born of close friendship. Instead, she clasped Avery tenderly to her and gave herself to the task of calming her distress. And when that was somewhat accomplished, she left her to go sadly in search of Piers. She found him sitting on the terrace with the morning-paper beside him and Caesar pressed close to his legs, his great mottled head resting on his master's knee. He was not reading. So much Mrs. Lorimer perceived before with a sharp turn of the head he discovered her. He was on his feet in a moment, and she saw his boyish smile for an instant, only for an instant, as he came to meet her. She noted with a pang how gaunt he looked and how deep were the shadows about his eyes. Then he had reached her, and was holding both her hands almost before she realized it. "I say, you're awfully good to come up every day like this," he said. "I can't think how you make the time. Splendid sun to-day, what? It's like a day in summer, if you can get out of the wind. Come and bask with me!"