Piers stretched a kindly arm behind the cushion that supported Jeanie's head. "Do you really want me to stay with you, little girl?" he asked. Jeanie was very white, but she looked at him bravely. "Do you mind?" she said. His dark eyes smiled encouragement. "No, of course I don't mind if I can be of any use to you. Tudor will probably want to kick me out, but if you have the smallest desire to keep me, I'll stay." "You are kind," said Jeanie very earnestly. "I think it will help me to be brave if I may hold your hand. You have such a strong hand." "It is entirely at your service," said Piers. He turned in his chair at the doctor's entrance, without rising. His attitude was decidedly dogged. He looked as if he anticipated a struggle. Dr. Tudor came in behind Avery. He was a man of forty, curt of speech and short of temper, with eyes that gleamed shrewdly behind gold pince-nez. He gave Piers a look that was conspicuously lacking in cordiality. "Hullo!" he said. "You here!" "Yes, I'm here," said Piers. The doctor's eyes passed him and went straight to the white face of the child on the sofa. He advanced and bent over her. "So you've had an accident, eh?" he said. "Yes," whispered Jeanie, pressing a little closer to Piers. "What happened?" "I think it was a rabbit-hole," said Jeanie not very lucidly. "Caught your foot and fell, I suppose?" said the doctor. "Was that all? Did you do any walking after it?" "Oh no!" said Jeanie, with a shudder. "Mr. Evesham carried me." "I see." He was holding her wrist between his fingers. Very suddenly he looked at Piers again. "I can't have you here," he said. "Can't you?" said Piers. He threw back his head with an aggressive movement, but said no more. "Please let him stay!" said Jeanie beseechingly. The doctor frowned. In a low voice Avery intervened. "I told him he might--for the child's sake." Dr. Tudor turned his hawk eyes upon her. "Who are you, may I ask?" Piers' free hand clenched, and a sudden hot flush rose to his forehead. But Avery made answer before he could speak. "I am the mother's help at the Vicarage. My name is Denys--Mrs. Denys. And Jeanie is in my care. Now, will you look at the injury?" She smiled a little as she said it, but the decision of her speech was past disputing. Dr. Tudor regarded her piercingly for a moment or two, then without a word turned aside. The tension went out of Piers' attitude; he held Jeanie comfortingly close. At the end of a brief examination the doctor spoke. "Yes. A simple fracture. I can soon put that to rights. You can help me, Mrs. Denys." He went to work at once, giving occasional curt directions to Avery, while Jeanie clung convulsively to Piers, her face buried in his coat, and fought for self-control.