She had a good many last words to say. To Mrs. Parkin, to Brenda, to Georgie and Ruffie.
The evening before she went away, Ruffie was sitting on his father's knee in the smoking-room. She went in to tell him it was bedtime.
"Come here, Steppie," Ruffie said; "Dad is going to teach me chess. I'll be able to play when you come back."
"That will be splendid. I haven't played chess for many years, but I remember I used to be fond of it."
Ruffie held out his hand to her, and she went down on her knees at his side.
"What is it, darling?" she asked.
He had one small arm tightly round his father's neck; with an impish look in his eyes, he suddenly shot out his other arm and encircled her neck with it. Then with a swift jerk, he brought their heads close together.
"Now kiss each other," he said with his mischievous chuckle. "Why don't grown-up people kiss each other? You must. I shan't let you go till you've done it."
Justin promptly took advantage of the occasion. But Anstice, with burning cheeks, broke away from Ruffie's clutch.
The child sank back, and leaning his head on his father's shoulder said: