It was her first day downstairs. Only three o'clock, and yet it seemed almost dark. Justin was in his study, checking his estate accounts.
The children were eagerly relating to Anstice all the small details of their lives since she had been upstairs. How Hercules had lain down in the passage outside Anstice's door with his nose against the mat, how Dad had tumbled over him and then sworn and then begged his pardon! How Ruffie's white mouse had run away and then appeared one morning climbing up the ivy on to his window ledge, and scratched at the pane till he was let in! How Mrs. Wykeham had come round to call, and burst into the library whilst lessons were going on, to say that she had heard that "Steppie" had smashed her ribs and been lost all night on the Fells! And lastly, what a lovely holiday they were having, for while the snow was so deep Mrs. Fergusson would not be able to come over to them.
"I'm not so sure of that being a blessing," said Anstice, smiling at them; "if there are no lessons there will be mischief brewing, I am afraid, and mischief means trouble for some one."
"When the snow stops, we mean to make a snowman," said Josie, "and we'll try and make him tall enough to peep into the nursery and say good morning to Ruffie."
Ruffie was on Anstice's lap. He was leaning his golden head against her shoulder with a look of deepest content.
"You hold me like Dad," he said to her once; "I never get pains in my legs with either of you."
Now he looked up at her.
"Now tell us about the rain and the mist on the Fells and how you and Hercules got lost."
The door had opened and Justin came in.
"I thought tea might be ready," he said, coming up and slipping into the other big chair close to the fire. "Don't move, any of you. I heard Ruffie asking about a point that wants to be made clear, so now you are well enough to tell us—how was it that you did not send Hercules home for help sooner? If he had not heard my whistle, he would not have come! He ought to have found his way, surely!"