"Your house would be very dull without the children," said Anstice, a sparkle in her eyes.
"To you; I think I could dispense with them—perhaps not the boy."
"How is he?"
"Fairly well. His spirit never flags."
Then, as he neared the house, he put his hand on Anstice's shoulder.
"We're glad to have you back," he said. "I suppose I need hardly tell you this."
"Oh, I like to hear it," said Anstice with her soft laugh. "It's a nice welcome."
She got a very warm one from the two little girls, who dashed out on to the terrace as the car drove up.
Ruffie was in his wheeled chair by the hall fire, for it was a cold, windy evening. His tiny arms were flung round her neck.
"Have mercy, sweetest, you're throttling me," she cried, but quick tears had sprung to her eyes as she returned his eager kisses. It was nice to be loved like this, she thought.