“I’ve been wishing for you all day long,” she said.

He leaned towards her.  “Have you, my fairy queen?  Well, I’m here at last.”

Avery, from the head of the schoolroom table, looked across at them with a feeling of fulness at her heart.  She never liked Piers so well as when she saw him in company with her little favourite.  His gentleness and chivalry made of him a very perfect knight.

“Yes,” said Jeanie, giving his hand a little squeeze.  “We’re going to have our Christmas Tree to-night, and Dr. Tudor is coming.  You don’t like him, I know.  But he’s really quite a nice man.”

She spoke the last words pleadingly, in response to a slight frown between Piers’ brows.

“Oh, is he?” said Piers, without enthusiasm.

“He’s been very kind,” said Jeanie in a tone of apology.

“He’d better be anything else—­to you!” said Piers, with a smile that was somewhat grim.

Jeanie’s fingers caressed his again propitiatingly.  “Do let’s all be nice to each other just for to-night!” she said.

Piers’ smile became tender again.  “As your gracious majesty decrees!” he said.  “Where is the ceremony to be held?”

“Up in the nursery.  We’ve had the little ones in here all day, while Mother and Nurse have been getting it ready.  I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Can’t we creep up when no one’s looking and have a private view?” suggested Piers.

Jeanie beamed at the idea.  “I would like to, for I’ve been in the secret from the very beginning.  But you must finish your tea first.  We’ll go when the crackers begin.”

As the pulling of crackers was the signal for every child at the table to make as much noise as possible, it was not difficult to effect their retreat without exciting general attention.  Avery alone noted their departure and smiled at Jeanie’s flushed face as the child nodded farewell to her over Piers’ shoulder.

“You do carry me so beautifully,” Jeanie confided to him as he mounted the stairs to the top of the house.  “I love the feel of your arms.  They are so strong and kind.  You’re sure I’m not too heavy?”

“I could carry a dozen of you,” said Piers.

They found the nursery brilliantly lighted and lavishly adorned with festoons of coloured paper.

“Aunt Avery and I did most of that,” said Jeanie proudly.

Piers bore her round the room, admiring every detail, finally depositing her in a big arm-chair close to the tall screen that hid the Christmas Tree.  Jeanie’s leg was mending rapidly, and gave her little trouble now.  She lay back contentedly, with shining eyes upon her cavalier.

“It was very nice of you to be so kind to Gracie last night,” she said.  “She told me all about it to-day.  Of course she ought not to have done it.  I hope—­I hope Sir Beverley wasn’t angry about it.”

Piers laughed a little.  “Oh no!  He got over it.  Was Gracie scared?”