Avery gave a little sigh and turned from the subject. "I thought Jeanie looking very fragile. Mrs. Lorimer has promised that she may come to me again just as soon as I am able to have her."
"Ah! Jeanie is a comfort to you?" said Tudor.
To which she answered with a catch in her breath, "The greatest comfort."
They reached the great grey house and entered. A letter lay on the table by the door. Avery took it up with a sharp shiver.
"Prom Piers?" asked Tudor abruptly.
She bent her head. "He writes—every week."
"When is he coming home?" He uttered the question with a directness that sounded almost brutal, but Avery caught the note of anxiety behind it and understood.
She opened the letter in silence, and read it by the waning light of the open door. The crackling of the fire behind her was the only sound within. Without, the wind moaned desolately through the bare trees. It was going to rain.
Slowly Avery raised her head at last and gazed out into the gathering dark.
"Come inside!" said Tudor peremptorily.