"Piers is so busy just now," she told him. "He sent all sorts of messages. He had to go over to Wardenhurst to see Colonel Rose. The M.P. for this division retired at the end of the Session, and Piers is to stand for the constituency. They talk of having the election in October."
"Will he get in?" asked Crowther, still watching her with friendly appreciation in his eyes.
"Oh, I don't know. I expect so. He gets most things that he sets his heart on. His grandfather—you knew Sir Beverley?—was so anxious that he should enter Parliament."
"Yes, I knew Sir Beverley," said Crowther. "He thought the world of Piers."
"And Piers of him," said Avery.
"Ah! Was it a great blow to him when the old man died?"
"A very great blow," she answered soberly. "That was the main reason for our marrying so suddenly. The poor boy was so lonely I couldn't bear to think of him by himself in this great house."
"He was very lucky to get you," said Crowther gravely.
She smiled. "I was lucky too. Don't you think so? I never in my wildest dreams pictured such a home as this for myself."
A great magnolia climbed the house behind her with creamy flowers that shed their lemon fragrance all about them. Crowther compared her in his own mind to the wonderful blossoms. She was so sweet, so pure, yet also in a fashion so splendid.