A voice spoke close to her.  “Lady Evesham, come and wait by the door! 
There is more air there.”

She turned her head mechanically, and looked at Lennox Tudor with eyes that saw not.  There was a singing in her ears that made the crashing chords of the organ sound confused and jumbled.

His hand closed firmly, sustainingly, upon her elbow.

“Come with me!” he said.

She went with him blindly, unconscious of the curious eyes that watched her go.

He led her quietly down the church and into the porch.  The air from outside, albeit hot and sultry, was less oppressive than within.  She drew great breaths of relief as it reached her.  The icy grip at her heart seemed to relax.

Tudor watched her narrowly.  “What madness brought you here?” he said presently, as she turned at last and mustered a smile of thanks.

She countered the question.  “I might ask you the same,” she said.

His eyes contracted behind the shielding glasses.  “So you might,” he said briefly.  “Well,—­I came on the chance of meeting you.”

“Of meeting me!” She looked at him in surprise.

He nodded.  “Just so.  I want a word with you; but it can’t be said here.  Give me an opportunity later if you can!”

His hand fell away from her elbow, he drew back.  The bridal procession was coming down the church.

Ina was flushed and laughing.  Dick Guyes still obviously nervous, but, also obviously, supremely happy.  They went by Avery into a perfect storm of rose-leaves that awaited them from the crowd outside.  Yet for one moment the eyes of the bride rested upon Avery, meeting hers almost as if they would ask her a question.  And behind her—­immediately behind her—­came Piers.

His eyes also found Avery, and in an instant with a haughty disregard of Tudor, he had swept her forward with him, his arm thrust imperially through hers.  They also weathered the storm of rose-leaves, and as they went Avery heard him laugh,—­the laugh of the man who fights with his back to the wall.

They were among the first to offer congratulations to the bride and bridegroom, and again Avery was aware of the girl’s eyes searching hers.

“I haven’t forgotten you,” she said, as they shook hands.  “I knew you would be Lady Evesham sooner or later after that day when you kept the whole Hunt at bay.”

Avery felt herself flush.  There seemed to her to be a covert insinuation in the remark.  “I was very grateful to you for taking my part,” she said.

“It was rather generous certainly,” agreed the bride coolly.  “Dick, do get off my train!  You’re horribly clumsy to-day.”

The bridegroom hastened to remove himself to a respectful distance, while Ina turned her pretty cheek to Piers.  “You may salute the bride,” she said graciously.  “It’s the only opportunity you will ever have.”

Piers kissed the cheek as airily as it was proffered, his dark eyes openly mocking.  “Good luck to you, Ina!” he said lightly.  “I wish you the first and best of all that’s most worth having.”