"Oh, Ruffie, my precious," said Anstice, laying her cheek against his, with her rippling laugh, "don't you worry over Dad. He and I understand each other. And he won't be lonely when he gets to his yacht again. He will be leaving us soon." "I'm going to ask God about that," said Ruffie mysteriously. "I think God could get rid of that yacht for us. None of us like it taking Dad away so often, and God can do anything in the way of storms, can't He?" "Go to sleep, and never pray that anything may be destroyed, darling." "Not even the wicked Devil?" asked Ruffie, but he was sleepy and tired and did not wait for an answer to that question. And Anstice said to herself as she left him: "If he feels lonely, don't I feel so too? I wonder if we shall ever be anything but lonely in this strange life of ours!" CHAPTER VII OFF ONCE MORE MISS CARRIE'S funeral took place three days later, and Justin and Anstice both attended it. The little churchyard away in the lovely Fells struck Anstice as peculiarly beautiful. There was a great stillness about it, a peace. Miss Maybrick did not attend. They were told that she was not well enough to leave her room, but a week later she sent for Anstice. "You seemed to be so interested in my sister," she said, "that I thought you might like to hear that we made up our quarrel about an hour after you had left us that day. She asked for my forgiveness, and I asked for hers. The last thing she said to me that night was—" "'Good night, Hatty—I feel easier now—and thanks to Mrs. Holme, I'm hoping to have made my peace with God.' I tell you this, for I think you ought to know it." "Thank you, I am so glad to hear it," said Anstice. "Quarrels are a mistake," said Miss Maybrick slowly, "and even a reconciliation doesn't do away with the stings of them. They remain to haunt one. I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life. She was my last relative left." Anstice was touched by the pathos in her tone. The stern, indomitable pride of the woman was crushed. She had a long talk with her, and promised to ride over and see her from time to time. The spring came on slowly but surely. The little girls got their ponies. Their joy was intense, but their father absolutely forbade them to ride about the Fells alone. "For a year at least, you must have some one always with you," he told them. "There are too many dangerous places for you to wander about at your will." They were very rebellious over this edict at first, but they were allowed to ride round the lake, and along the lanes, and with this, they learned to be content. One day, when Justin was hunting, Anstice took the three children over to see the Nixons. They had tea there, and Ruffie was highly delighted with old Tommy's queer carved walking-stick. The old man took a great fancy to him; and before he went, presented him with a carved pipe. "'Tis for you to smoke when you get to be a man," he said.