"Well, you know now," he rejoined with an irritable frown. "Hurry up,
Crowther! I want you to come and see the crops."
Avery was literally amazed by his manner. He had never been so frankly and unjustifiably rude to her before. She came to the conclusion that something had happened at the Roses' to annoy him; but that he should visit his annoyance upon her was a wholly new experience.
He drank his tea, talking hard to Crowther the while, and finally sprang to his feet as if in a ferment to be gone.
"Won't Lady Evesham come too?" asked Crowther, as he rose.
Avery rose also. "Yes, I have promised the children to join them in the cornfield," she said.
Piers said nothing; but she had a very distinct impression that he would have preferred her to remain behind. The wonder crossed her mind if he were jealous because he could no longer have her exclusively to himself.
They walked down through the park to the farm. It was a splendid August evening. The reaping was still in progress, and the whirr of the machine rose slumbrous through the stillness. But of the Vicarage children there was at first no sign.
Avery searched for them in surprise. She had sent a picnic basket down to the farm earlier in the afternoon, and she had expected to find them enjoying the contents thereof in a shady corner. But for a time she searched in vain.
"They must have gone home," said Piers.
But she did not believe they would have left without seeing her, and she went to the farm to make enquiries.