But they had hardly left the breakfast table before a telegram was brought to Anstice. When she opened it, she drew a long sigh, and handed it to her husband. It was very brief: "Carrie passed away eight o'clock this morning in her sleep: writing.—H. M." "I hardly thought she would die so soon, but the doctor said her heart was very feeble, and evidently it has been very weak for a long time. Well, it is a merciful release for her." "Now what are you going to do?" asked Justin. "Are you still going over?" "Oh, no, I shall wait till I hear. What a sad homecoming for Miss Maybrick!" "A peaceful solution of their difficulties." "I suppose so, and yet I can hardly imagine that Miss Maybrick will have a happy time by herself in that old house. She so very nearly turned her sister out to die." Anstice looked so sad that Justin said a little impatiently: "At any rate you are not responsible for either of them. How you were called in at all, I cannot imagine. They were both strangers to you a few weeks ago." "But they are old friends of yours, Justin. Don't you feel at all interested in them? I think, when people get old and self-centred as those sisters have, it is so tragic when they have to face death and realize what it means. I am comforted about Miss Carrie. She so genuinely repented and cried for mercy. And though it was a death-bed repentance, I believe in the saying:" "'Betwixt the saddle and the ground He mercy sought and mercy found.'" "But her sister, who is now realizing the sad fact of her death, must be conscious what a sad, wasted life Miss Carrie's has been, and what a hard, loveless one her own is. For years, she has bent all her energies and will to turning her sister out of her inheritance. Now she has the desire of her heart; but when her call comes, and this will remind her that it will come, how will she be able to meet it?" "We really need not make ourselves miserable over other people's lives. Now, as you are not going over to them, will you see the horse this afternoon and try him?" Anstice shook off her grave thoughts. She felt that at present Justin could not sympathize or understand with her in her deep interest and concern in other people's troubles, so she brought light into his eyes again when she agreed to do as he wished. The horse was brought over in the afternoon. He had a black satin coat, and soft intelligent eyes; his motion was all that was desired. Anstice slipped into an old habit of hers, and was mounted from the front terrace, the children all looking on. Justin and she rode along by the lake, and then went up and had a canter on the soft grassy paths that wound in and out of the Fells. The exercise brought colour to her cheeks and light to her eyes. "You like him?" her husband asked. "Yes, what is his name? I love his swift, easy stride." "Hereward they call him. Then he shall be yours." "It's really very good of you. I don't know how to thank you."