She rose quickly, and the nurse looked up.  Jeanie’s eyes dark, unearthly, unafraid, were opened wide.

She gazed at Avery for a moment as if slightly puzzled.  Then, in a faint whisper:  “Has Piers said good-night?” she asked.

“No, darling.  But he is waiting to.  I will call him,” Avery said.

“Quickly!” whispered the nurse, as she passed her.

Swiftly, noiselessly, Avery went to her own room.  But some premonition of her coming must have reached him; for he met her on the threshold.

His eyes questioned hers for a moment, and then together they turned back to Jeanie’s room.  No words passed between them.  None were needed.

Jeanie’s face was turned towards the door.  Her eyes looked beyond Avery and smiled a welcome to Piers.  He came to her, knelt beside her.

“Dear Sir Galahad!” she said.

He shook his head.  “No, Jeanie, no!”

She was panting.  He slipped his arm under the pillow to support her.  She turned her face to his.

“Oh, Piers,” she breathed, “I do—­so—­want you—­to be happy.”

“I am happy, sweetheart,” he said.

But Jeanie’s vision was stronger in that moment than it had ever been before, and she was not deceived.  “You are not happy, dear Piers,” she said.  “Avery is not happy either.”

Piers turned slightly.  “Come here, Avery!” he said.

The old imperious note was in his voice, yet with a difference.  He stretched his free hand up to her, drawing her down to his side, and as she knelt also he passed his arm about her, pressing her to him.

Jeanie’s eyes were upon them both, dying eyes that shone with a mystic glory.  They saw the steadfast resolution in Piers’ face as he held his wife against his heart.  They saw the quivering hesitation with which she yielded.

“You’re not happy—­yet,” she whispered.  “But you will be happy.”

Thereafter she seemed to slip away from them for a space, losing touch as it were, yet still not beyond their reach.  Once or twice she seemed to be trying to pray, but they could not catch her words.

The dawn-light grew stronger before the window.  The sound of the waves had sunk to a low murmuring.  From where she knelt Avery could see the far, dim line of sea.  Piers’ arm was still about her.  She felt as though they two were kneeling apart before an Altar invisible, waiting to receive a blessing.

Jeanie’s breathing was growing less hurried.  She seemed already beyond all earthly suffering.  Yet her eyes also watched that far dim sky-line as though they waited for a sign.

Slowly the light deepened, the shadows began to lift.  Piers’ eyes were fixed unswervingly upon the child’s quiet face.  The light of the coming Dawn was reflected there.  The great Change was very near at hand.

Far away to the left there grew and spread a wondrous brightness.  The sky seemed to recede, turned from grey to misty blue.  A veil of cloud that had hidden the stars all through the night dissolved softly into shreds of gold, and across the sea with a diamond splendour there shot the first great ray of sunlight.