Piers grunted. He fidgeted to the window and back, and then, finding
Jeanie's eyes still mutely watching him, he pulled up a chair to her side
and took the slender hand again into his own.

Avery turned her attention to coaxing the fire to burn, and presently
went out to Mrs. Marshall in her kitchen to offer her services there. She
was graciously permitted to cut some bread and butter while the old woman
prepared a tray.

"I suppose it was Master Piers' fault," the latter remarked with
severity. "He's always up to some mischief or other."

Avery hastened to assure her that upon this occasion Piers was absolutely
blameless and had been of the utmost assistance to them.

"I'm very glad to hear it," said Mrs. Marshall. "He's a feckless young
gentleman, and I often think as he's like to bring the old master's hairs
with sorrow to the grave. Sir Beverley do set such store by him, always
did from the day he brought him back from his dead mother in Paris, along
with that French valet who carried him like as if he'd been a parcel of
goods. He's been brought up by men from his cradle, miss, and it hasn't
done him any good. But there! Sir Beverley is that set against all
womenkind there's no moving him."

Mrs. Marshall was beginning to expand--a mark of high favour which she
bestowed only upon the few.

Avery listened with respect, comfortably aware that by this simple means
she was creating a good impression. She was anxious to win the old dame