The sun went out of sight, and the darkness of the valley swallowed her.  She sped on, fleet-footed, flushed and laughing, moving as if on wings.

She neared the dark line of wood, and saw the stark, outstretched branches of the oak that was her goal.  In the same instant she caught sight of a man’s figure standing beneath it, apparently waiting for her.

He had evidently just come out of the wood.  He carried a gun on his shoulder, but the freedom of his pose was so striking that she likened him on the instant to a Roman gladiator.

She could not stop herself at once though she checked her speed, and when she finally managed to come to a stand, she was close to him.

He stepped forward to meet her with a royal air of welcome.  “How nice of you to come and call on me!” he said.

His dark eyes shone mischievously as they greeted her, and she was too flushed and dishevelled to stand upon ceremony.  Pantingly she threw back her gay reply.

“This is the children’s happy hunting ground, not mine, I suppose, if the truth were told, we are trespassing.”

He made her his sweeping bow.  “There is not a corner of this estate that is not utterly and for ever at your service.”

He turned as the two elder boys came racing up, and she saw the half-mocking light go out of his eyes as they glanced up the hill.  “Hullo!” he said.  “There’s one of them come to grief.”

Sharply she turned also.  Pat and Gracie were having a spirited race down the lower slope of the hill.  Olive had begun to descend from the top with becoming dignity.  And midway, poor Jeanie crouched in a forlorn little heap with her hands tightly covering her face.

“The child’s hurt!” exclaimed Avery.

She started to run back, but in a moment Piers sprang past her, crying, “All right.  Don’t run!  Take it easy!”

He himself went like the wind.  She watched him with subconscious admiration.  He was so superbly lithe and strong.

She saw him reach Jeanie and kneel down beside her.  There was no hesitation about him.  He was evidently deeply concerned.  He slipped a persuasive arm about the child’s huddled form.

When Avery reached them, Jeanie’s head in its blue woollen cap was pillowed against him and she was telling him sobbingly of her trouble.

“I—­I caught my foot.  I don’t know—­how I did it.  It twisted right round—­and oh, it does hurt, I—­I—­I can’t help—­being silly!”

“All right, kiddie, all right!” said Piers.  “It was one of those confounded rabbit-holes.  There!  You’ll be better in a minute.  Got a handkerchief, what?  Oh, never mind!  Take mine!”

He pulled it out and dried her eyes as tenderly as if he had been a woman; then raised his head abruptly and spoke to Avery.

“I expect it’s a sprain.  I’d better get her boot off and see, what?”

“No, we had better take her home first,” said Avery with quick decision.