There was a certain dignity in his speech that gave it weight. Avery listened in silence, and into silence the words passed.
Several seconds slipped away, then without effort Tudor came back to everyday things. "Sit down, won't you? Your tea is getting cold."
Avery sat down, and he handed it to her, and after a moment turned aside to the table.
"As a matter of fact," he said, "I have just come back from the
Vicarage."
"Oh, have you?" Avery looked round quickly. "You went to see Jeanie?"
"Yes." Tudor spoke gravely. "I also saw the Vicar. I told him the child must go away. That cough of hers is tearing her to pieces. She ought to go to the South Coast. I told him so."
"Oh! What did he say?" Avery spoke with eagerness. She had been longing to suggest that very proposal for some time past.
Tudor smiled into his cup. "He said it was a total impossibility. That was the starting-point. At the finish it was practically decided that you should take her away next week."
"I!" said Avery.
"Yes, you. Mrs. Lorimer will manage all right now. The nurse can look after her and the little ones without assistance. And the second girl—Olive isn't it?—can look after the Reverend Stephen. It's all arranged in fact, unless it fails to meet with your approval, in which case of course the whole business must be reconsidered."