"Oh, Piers!" she said, with a long indrawn breath. "It's a whole sovereign! Oh no!" He laughed a reckless laugh, while over her head his eyes challenged his grandfather's. "That's all right, Piccaninny," he said lightly. "Put it in your pocket! And I'll come round with the car to-morrow and run you into Wardenhurst to buy those gloves." But Gracie shook her head. "Gloves don't cost all that," she said practically. "And besides, you won't have any left for yourself. Fancy giving away a whole sovereign at a time!" She addressed Sir Beverley. "It seems almost a tempting of Providence, doesn't it!" "The deed of a fool!" said Sir Beverley. But Piers, with a sudden hardening of the jaw, stooped over Gracie. "Take it!" he said. "I wish it." She looked up at him. "No, Piers; I mustn't really. It's ever so nice of you." She rubbed her golden head against his shoulder caressingly. "Please don't be cross! I do thank you--awfully. But I don't want it. Really, I don't." "Rot!" said Piers. "Do as I tell you! Take it!" Gracie turned to Sir Beverley. "I can't, can I? Tell him I can't!" But Piers was not to be thwarted. With a sudden dive he seized the coin and without ceremony swept Gracie's hair from her shoulders and dropped it down the back of her neck. "There!" he said, slipping his hands over her arms and holding her while she squealed and writhed. "It's quite beyond reach. You can't in decency return it now. It's no good wriggling. You won't get it up again unless you stand on your head." "You're horrid--horrid!" protested Gracie; but she reached back and kissed him notwithstanding. "Thank you ever so much. I hope I shan't lose it. But I don't know what I shall do with it all. It's quite dreadful to think of. Please don't be cross with him!" she said to Sir Beverley. "It's--awfully--kind." Sir Beverley smiled sardonically. "And whom are the gloves for? Some other kind youth?" "Oh no!" she laughed. "Only Aunt Avery. She tore hers all to bits this afternoon. I expect it was over a dog fight or something, but she wouldn't tell us what. They were nice gloves too. She isn't a bit rich, but she always wears nice gloves." "Being a woman!" growled Sir Beverley. "Don't you like women?" asked Gracie sympathetically. "I like men best too as a rule. But Aunt Avery is so very sweet. No one could help loving her, could they, Piers?" "Have an orange!" said Piers, pulling the dish towards him. "Oh, thank you, I mustn't stop," Gracie turned to Sir Beverley and lifted her bright face. "Good-bye! Thank you for being so kind." There was no irony in her thanks, and even he could scarcely refuse the friendly offer of her lips. He stooped and grimly received her farewell salute on his cheek. Piers loaded her with as many oranges as she could carry, and they finally departed through the great hall which Gracie surveyed with eyes of reverent admiration. "It's as big as a church," she said, in an awed whisper.