“You—­can’t,” he said at last.

“But I think I can,” she urged gently.  “It isn’t so very long ago that you wanted me.”

“I was an infernal blackguard to tell you so!” he made answer.

And then suddenly his arms tightened about her, and he held her fast.  “That you—­you, Avery,—­should come to me—­like this!” he said.

She freed one of her hands and laid it on his bent head.  “Shall I tell you what made me come, Piers?”

He shook his head in silence, but there was passion in the holding of his arms.

For a space he continued to hold her so, speaking no word, and through his silence there came to her the quick, fierce beat of his heart.  Then at length very suddenly, almost with violence, he flung his arms wide and started to his feet.

“Avery,” he said, “you were a saint to come to me like this.  I shan’t forget it ever.  But there’s nothing—­nothing you can do, except leave me to my own devices.  It’s only just at first, you know, that the loneliness seems so—­awful.”  His voice shook unexpectedly; he swung round away from her and walked to the end of the room.

He came back almost immediately and stood before her.  “Victor was a criminal fool to bring you here.  He meant well though.  He always does.  That note of yours—­I ought to have answered it.  I was just coming in here to do so.  I shouldn’t have kept you waiting so long, but somehow—­somehow—­” Again, in spite of him, his voice quivered.  He turned sharply and walked to the fireplace, leaned his arms upon it, and stood so, his back to her, his head bent.

“It was so awfully good of you,” he went on after a moment.  “You always have been—­awfully good.  My grandfather realized that, you know.  I think he told you so, didn’t he?  He wasn’t really sorry that I wouldn’t marry Ina Rose.  By the way, she is engaged to Dick Guyes already, so there was not much damage done in that direction.  I told you it was nothing but a game, didn’t I?  You didn’t quite believe me, what?”

It came to her that he was talking to gain time, that he was trying to muster strength to give the lie to the passion that had throbbed in the holding of his arms, that for some reason he deemed it incumbent upon him to mask his feelings and hide from her the misery that had driven Victor in search of her.

She rose quietly and moved across the room till she stood beside him.  “Piers,” she said, “tell me what is wrong!”

He stiffened at her approach, straightened himself, faced her.  “Avery,” he said, “do you know, dear, it would be better if you went straight back again?  I hate to say it.  It was so dear of you, so—­so—­great of you to come.  But—­no, there’s nothing wrong,—­nothing that is, that hasn’t been wrong for ages.  Fact is, I’m not fit to speak to you, never have been; far less make love to you.  And I was a cur and a brute to do it.  I’ve had a bit of a shake-up lately.  It’s made me feel my responsibilities, see things as they are.  I’ve got an awful lot to see to just now.  I’m going to work mighty hard.  I mustn’t think of—­other things.”