were
trying to force his way into a place which regarded as peculiarly sacred,
from which in some fashion she owed it to Piers as well as to herself to
bar him out.

"I am sorry," she said gently after a moment, "but I am afraid that is
just what I can't tell you."

She saw Sir Beverley's chin thrust out at just the indomitable angle with
which Piers had made her familiar, and she realized that he had no
intention of abandoning his point.

"You told him, I suppose?" he demanded gruffly.

A faint sense of amusement arose within her, her anxiety notwithstanding.
It struck her as ludicrous that she should be browbeaten on this point.

She made answer with more assurance. "I told him that the idea was
unsuitable, out of the question, that he ought to marry a girl of his own
age and station--not a middle-aged widow like me."

"Pshaw!" exclaimed Sir Beverley impatiently. "You belong to the same
generation, don't you? What more do you want?"

If he had slapped her face, Avery would scarcely have felt more amazed,
She gazed at him in silence, wondering if she could have heard aright.

Sir Beverley frowned upon her fiercely, the iron will of him scorning and
surmounting his physical weakness.

"You've got nothing against the boy, I suppose?" he pursued, with the
evident determination to get at the truth despite all opposition. "He has
never given you any cause for complaint? He's behaved himself like a
gentleman, hey?"

"Oh, of course, of course!" Avery said in distress. "It's not that!"

Sir Beverley frowned still more heavily. "Then--what the devil is it?"
he demanded. "Don't you like him well enough? Aren't you--in love with
him?" His lips curled ironically over the words; they sounded
inexpressibly bitter.

Avery's eyes fell before his pitiless stare. She began with fingers that
trembled to pluck the primroses that grew in a large tuft close to her,
saying no word.

"Well?" said Sir Beverley, with growing impatience.

She kept her eyes lowered, for she felt she could not meet his look as
she made reluctant answer. "No, it is not either. In fact, if I were a
girl--I had not been married before--I think I should say Yes.
But--but--" she paused, searching for words, striving to restrain a
rising agitation, "as it is, I don't think it would be quite fair to him.
I don't know if I could make him happy. I am not young enough, fresh
enough, gay enough. I can't offer him a girl's first love, and that is
what he oug