There was no more sleep that night. When the morning came she rose with an aching head and troubled heart. But she found herself instinctively imagining the relief and comfort a capable woman might bring to that disordered and most unhappy home. And though one part of her stoutly resisted all thoughts of herself being that one, another part of her was mentally arranging and sorting out her personal possessions with the view of going up North. CHAPTER II THE STRANGE MARRIAGE ON Monday morning, Anstice was surprised to get the following letter from Justin Holme: "DEAR MISS BARRETT,— "I am writing to you, because I feel that in our interview yesterday I was rude, abrupt, and much too peremptory. I was ill at ease, and did not control my feelings. Now I realize that I prejudiced you against me to start with; I rushed into my needs when I ought to have kept them in the background till I had gained your liking. I desperately want a stepmother for my children, but I frankly own that at present I am not a family man—I am too much of a rover to settle down. It seems a hopeless impasse, unless we determine to wed under the conditions I proposed. I am trading, I am afraid, on your love for children. I would ask you to come as housekeeper or governess, but feel convinced after so many experiences in that line that you might be only another failure. My children are dead set against all species of governesses and housekeepers. The only chance for them is a real second mother. "I do implore you to give us a chance. Forgive my selfishness. I am entirely thinking of my own happiness and welfare, not of yours. But perhaps one day you may teach me to do so. "I will subscribe myself— "A very unhappy man who sees a light before him which he fears he will fail to reach. "JUSTIN HOLME." Anstice sat with this upon her knee. When she had left her room that morning, she had felt a reaction set in. She could not give up her life for such a position, to please a perfect stranger—a man who had been so embittered and soured by the treatment which he had received from one woman that he determined never to let any other woman enter his life. And now this letter had made the pendulum swing the other way again. Her dream became more vivid to her. This was an unhappy, disillusioned, desperate man, who was not content to fling his responsibility as regards his children to the winds. That was the only good trait in his character. He was so anxious about them, that he was willing to tie himself up for life to a woman for whom he had no affection or desire. What a tangle it all was! All that day the battle raged in her heart. But on Tuesday morning, when Justin Holme came to his aunt's breakfast table, he found the following letter awaiting him: "DEAR MR. HOLME,—