"And then I tried my hand on Victory. 'Home!' I said. 'Fetch help, good fellow. Go on!' But I knew it was hopeless. He just winked his eye at me, and said: 'Think I'm going to leave my master to your charge, to that great blunderbuss of a dog, who doesn't know one sheep from another! Here I stay, and no one shall move me!' We were a funny quartette, weren't we?" Ruffie laughed out merrily: "Go on; make the dogs talk to each other. What happened next?" "Then we heard Dad's whistle, and Hercules went bounding away, but Victory never stirred. And then we were all found, and the mist got tired of misting, and ran away, and the rain stopped, and then the moon came out and smiled upon us, and we all got back to the farm." She stopped in her recital, for Brenda appeared to say that the nursery tea was ready. She carried Ruffie off, and the little girls followed, but Justin stayed where he was. He stretched out his long legs before the fire, and leant his head back in the cushioned chair with a short sigh. "Don't you get very tired of always talking down to children?" he asked. "Sometimes," said Anstice frankly; "but I have not had many other people to talk to. Mrs. Fergusson is charming, but I can get her but seldom—" "She's improving those imps of girls: they're not half so wild as they were six months ago." "They're all right. They want plenty of occupation. I believe they'll grow up into delightful young women." A little silence fell between them. It was not often that Justin settled down to talk. He seemed to elude his opportunities, and somehow or other Anstice felt tongue-tied. She broke the silence by saying: "As soon as the snow has cleared, I must get over and see poor Ellen Nixon. She does so love to see anyone." "She will have to go without seeing you," said Justin a little sharply. "You must not think of wandering over the Fells again by yourself." "But I have Hercules with me." "He was not much good the other afternoon. In the summer-time, it is different, but in the winter, the mists descend very rapidly. You must confine your walks nearer home." "I will choose a fine day." "You will choose no day with my permission—you must postpone your long walks on the Fells till the spring." Anstice laughed her low laugh of amusement, her dimples coming into play. "That is the tone you use towards Josie or Georgie. I am unaccustomed to be given orders." "If you are a reasonable woman, you will respect my wishes. It is for your own sake, though perhaps you'll credit me with the selfish desire of saving myself from anxiety and a long tramp to bring you back again." "That is altogether unnecessary." "It was not unnecessary the other afternoon." "No," said Anstice gently, "I am very grateful to you for all you did for me. Well, if I must forgo visiting the poor old Nixons all the winter, who is going to do it? The Rector is not strong enough. I am more fit to do it than he." "I may get over myself from time to time."