Ruffie gazed at it adoringly; then put it into his pocket. "I'll certainly smoke it every day," he said. "You know I shall be able to do most things men do when I grow up—except just the leg part of me." His happy pluck evoked an exclamation from Tommy as he turned to Anstice. "Blest if I ever heerd the loike! He's grand, mem, grand! An' he'll be a sweeter nut then his feyther!" But Anstice, as she looked at the fragile little figure, wondered sadly if he would ever live to come to his heritage of manhood. She was very happy these spring days. Justin and she rode a good deal together, and in their rides, became closer drawn together. Once or twice, she and the children went out upon the lake in his motor-boat; as the weather improved, they were much out of doors. The budding gorse, the sweet clusters of primroses in the lanes, the blossoming hawthorns, and the young bracken uncurling beneath their feet, all added to the attractions of the lake and the surrounding Fells. And then one morning at breakfast Justin said suddenly: "My skipper writes that the yacht is ready for a sail. She's been having a fresh coat of paint; but now I need wait no longer." Anstice looked across the table at him with a queer little smile. "So you'll be off again! Where are you going this time?" "I thought I would go to Norway for some fishing. I have not settled anything further. I will wait and see what sort of fishing is going. I may run over to Iceland afterwards." "Oh, well, you will not be so far away from us this time." "I haven't decided what I shall do. I could go on to America later." "And how soon will you go?" "The day after to-morrow, I think." Anstice felt startled. "So soon? But of course, a man's packing is not like a woman's! You must let me help you with it. I am a very good packer." "Thanks." Then he fixed her with intense, imperative gaze. "Will you be sorry for my departure?" "Why should I be?" She spoke lightly to hide the disappointment at her heart; and yet afterwards wished that she had answered otherwise. "This is too quiet a life for a rover like you," she went on. "Ruffie is the one who suffers most for your absence. I hope that he may grow strong enough to accompany you in a few years' time." Justin's brow clouded. He crumbled a bit of toast in his fingers nervously. "I thought we were friends, Anstice," he said after a minute's silence. "So we are," she responded quickly. "Friends are not entirely indifferent to absence," he said; "at a word from you I would stay at home altogether." The colour rose in Anstice's cheeks, then she said in her quiet aloof tone: "I would never be the one to say that word, Justin. You must remember that in our agreement you told me that I was to look upon you as a negligible quantity; that our marriage would not affect you or touch your life. I am content to carry out that agreement, to keep your house and look after your children. More you cannot expect from me."