Justin met her in the hall with an angry light in his eyes. He said nothing before the servants, but followed her into her morning-room. She sank into a chair with pale cheeks and an exhausted air, but her husband was too wrapped up in his grievance to notice her looks. "Didn't we arrange to have a ride together this afternoon? Do you think nothing of breaking your engagements with me? Are you aware that Fenton sent a horse over from Penrith for you to try?" "Oh, I am so sorry, that was to be a surprise for me then, for you never said anything about it. I thought I was going on the old pony. You got my note?" "The note does not alter the fact of your breaking your engagement with me." "Oh, Justin, I apologize; but Miss Carrie is dying: they do not think she will last through the night. She sent for me; I had to go. Surely you would not have me refuse her?" He stood by the window, like a thwarted, angry boy. Tired as she was, Anstice rose from her seat. Putting her hand on his shoulder, a thing she had never done before, she said in her tenderest tone: "Forgive me. Don't be angry. But I couldn't have refused a dying woman's call." "You are not a parson, and you are not called to do a parson's work. Your place is at home with me and my children." She dropped her hand, and then he wheeled round swiftly upon her. "My claims come first," he said sharply. "Your children's claims do," said Anstice very quietly, "but I do not acknowledge that yours do. You mustn't be a tyrant, Justin. Women are not chattels. And I must have my own independent judgment about things. I could not live anywhere stifling my ears to the cries for help from anyone, rich or poor. Imagine yourself struck down suddenly upon a sick-bed, knowing that you will never get up again alive, that you're on the brink of eternity, going into an unknown life with no hope in your heart. Wouldn't you like somebody to help you? To try to throw a ray of light across your darkness?" Justin stood looking at her with sombre eyes. Then he turned round again and looked out of the window. "I'm a fool to want you," he muttered. Anstice smiled, though she did not feel like smiling. "We mustn't quarrel," she said. "I don't think I have had an angry word from you before. I am truly sorry I disappointed you. Don't tell me I was wrong to do so." "I wonder if you ever own yourself in the wrong?" Justin's temper was under control again. He spoke in his natural voice, and when she did not answer him, he drew her towards him. "I warn you, Anstice, I shall make claims on you. I am not at all satisfied with our present position, are you?" He had imprisoned her hands in his, and was looking searchingly into her face. Then suddenly he released her. "You are tired, poor child, and I'm a selfish brute. I always have lived for self alone. You will have to teach me to be different. We'll have tea in here. Women always feel better after a cup of tea, don't they?"