He left the room, and Anstice, feeling the strain of what she had been through both at Harscale Hall and in her own home, sank back into her chair, and putting her hands up to her face, surprised herself by giving way to some quiet tears. Then, as Neale brought in tea, she made her escape up to her room. When she came down again she was her bright natural self; but Justin, as he took a cup of tea from her, saw the traces of tears in her eyes, and felt ashamed of himself. He talked of different things for the next twenty minutes, as if nothing had happened between them, and then, as the little girls' voices were heard coming down the stairs, he said quickly: "Don't go to the children to-night. You're tired. They must do without you." Anstice shook her head. "I will never fail them, unless I am ill," she said. She left him after tea, and he heard music going on in the drawing-room and the children's happy voices. But he sat on over the fire with moody, discontented eyes. "I shall get jealous of my own children," he muttered. "Who was it told me I was too cold-blooded for jealousy? Why, it was Malcolm Dermot. He was wrong." He sat there cogitating; an unhappy man, who was just beginning to see chinks of light through the clouds of mistrust and bitterness that were spoiling his life. When the children's hour was over, Anstice came back to her room and was surprised to see her husband still there. "Do you want me gone?" he asked her, making a movement in his chair. "Oh, no," she said gently; "I like to see you there." He looked up at her. "Come and put your hand on my shoulder as you did a short while ago and tell me that you forgive me for my selfishness and bad temper. I won't be a tyrant. You must prevent my being so." She came up to him. "There is nothing to forgive," she said. "I ought to feel glad that you wanted me with you this afternoon." She did put her hand on his shoulder again, and Justin was thrilled by her touch. He felt inclined to take her in his arms and kiss her, but he controlled himself. He was sweetness itself for the rest of the evening. The next morning at breakfast he said to her: "Well, what are your plans for to-day? Shall I 'phone to Fenton to have the horse brought round again this afternoon?" Anstice hesitated, then she said in her pleasant, even voice: "I had better tell you straight out, though I fear it will annoy you, that I promised Miss Maybrick, if I did not hear from her this morning, that I would go over to Miss Carrie again this afternoon. She dreads being left with her, I think, and is afraid she may die whilst she is in the room. It is all very sad. Miss Carrie would hardly let me leave her yesterday. She literally clung on to my hand and would not let it go." Justin put a great restraint upon his feelings. He responded in as quiet a tone as hers: "Very well, we must leave our riding for the present."