She realized poignantly all that Sir Beverley had visualized when he had told her that very soon his boy would be all alone.  She knew fully why he had pressed upon her the task of helping Piers through his dark hour.  He had known—­as she also knew—­how sore would be his need of help.  And as this came home to her, her strength—­that strength which was the patient building of all the years of her womanhood—­came back to her, and she felt renewed and unafraid.

She returned to her work with a steadfastness of purpose that even Miss Whalley viewed with distant admiration; working throughout the morning while the minute bell tolled overhead, rendering honour to the departed Squire.

When she left at length to return to the Vicarage for the midday meal, her portion was done.

But it was not till night came again that she found time to write the few brief words that she had been revolving in her mind all day long.

“DEAR PIERS,

“I am thinking of you constantly, and longing to help you in your trouble.  Let me know if there is anything whatever that I can do, and I shall be ready at any time.

“With love from Avery.”

Her face glowed softly over the writing of the note.  She slipped out and posted it before she went to bed.

He would get it in the morning, and he would be comforted.  For he would understand.  She was sure that he would understand.

Of herself all through that second wakeful night she did not think at all, and so no doubts rose to torment her.  She lay in a species of tired wonder.  She was keeping her promise to the dead man, and in the keeping of it there was peace.

The great square Abbey pew at the top of the church was empty throughout Easter Sunday.  A heavy gloom reigned at the Vicarage.  Avery and the children were in dire disgrace, and Mrs. Lorimer, spent most of the day in tears.  She could not agree with the Vicar that they were directly responsible for the Squire’s death.  Dr. Tudor had been very emphatic in assuring them that what had happened had been the inevitable outcome of a disease of long standing.  But this assurance did not in any way modify the Vicar’s attitude, and he decided that the five children should spend their time in solitary confinement until after the day fixed for the funeral.

This was to be Easter Tuesday, and he himself had arranged to depart the day after—­an event to which the entire household, with the single exception of Olive, looked forward with the greatest eagerness.

No message came from Piers that night, and Avery wondered a little, but without uneasiness.  He must have so very much to think of and do at such a time, she reflected.  He would scarcely even have begun to feel the dreadful loneliness.

But when the next day passed, and still no answer came, a vague anxiety awoke within her.  Surely her message had reached him!  Surely he must have read it!  The Piers she knew would have dashed off some species of reply at once.  How was it he delayed?