rying him quite so much. I don't want to--to vex
him more than I need."

"My dear!" Avery said compassionately. And she added as she had added to
the daughter half an hour before, "Poor little thing!"

Mrs. Lorimer gave a feeble laugh, lifting her face. "You are a sweet
girl, Avery. I may call you that? I do hope the work won't be too much
for you. You mustn't let me lean on you too hard."

"You shall lean just as hard as you like," Avery said, and, bending,
kissed the tired face. "I am here to be a help to you, you know. Yes, do
call me Avery! I'm quite alone in the world, and it makes it feel like
home. Now you really must lie down till supper. And you are not to worry
about anything. I am sure the boys will come back much better. There! Is
that comfortable?"

"Quite, dear, thank you. You mustn't think about me any more. Good-bye!
Thank you for all your goodness to me!" Mrs. Lorimer clung to her hand
for a moment. "I was always prejudiced against mothers' helps before,"
she said ingenuously. "But I find you an immense comfort--an immense
comfort. You will try and stay, won't you, if you possibly can?"

"Yes," Avery promised. "I will certainly stay--if it rests with me."

Her lips were very firmly closed as she went out of the room and her grey
eyes extremely bright. It had been a strenuous half-hour.

CHAPTER V

LIFE ON A CHAIN

"Oh, I say, are you going out?" said Piers. "I was just coming to
call on you."

"On me?" Avery looked at him with brows raised in surprised
interrogation.

He made her a graceful bow, nearly sweeping the path outside the Vicarage
gate with his cap. "Even so, madam! On you! But as I perceive you are not
at home to callers, may I be permitted to turn and walk beside you?"

As he suited the action to the words, it seemed superfluous to grant the
permission, and Avery did not do so.

"I am only going to run quickly down to the post," she said, with a
glance at some letters she carried.

He might have offered to post them for her, but such a course did not
apparently occur to him. Instead he said: "I'll race you if you like."

Avery refrained from smiling, conscious of a gay glance flung in her
direction.

"I see you prefer to walk circumspectly," said Piers. "Well, I can do
that too. How is Mike? Why isn't he with you?"

"Mike is quite well, thank you," said Avery. "And he is kept chained up."

"What an infernal shame!" burst from Piers. "I'd sooner shoot a dog than
k