"I think this conversation is waste of time. I never change my mind. If the King himself on his bended knees came and pleaded for her, my answer would be the same. She has made her own bed, let her lie in it."
Anstice rose. It had been a visit made much against her will and liking. And yet, as she shook hands with Miss Maybrick, she could not help saying in her tender way:
"We have all been treated so much better than we deserve. And mercy is such a much grander force than power, that even now I dare to hope that you will find a way out. A way of preserving your dignity of justice, together with a great compassionate love towards the one who has wronged you. May I thank you for listening to me and not being offended at my interference in such a delicate and private family matter?"
Miss Maybrick was speechless.
Anstice returned home feeling downcast at her failure to move or touch the stern North-country gentlewoman.
When her husband came back from town she told him of her visit.
"Would you object very much if I asked poor Miss Carrie to come and stay with us till she could make her own plans? She cannot be turned out of doors. It is cruel and inhuman of her sister to think of doing it."
"No," said Justin sharply, "I am not going to have her here. You have quite enough to do with running the house and looking after the children, without having an invalid on your hands. Miss Harriet will find lodgings for her somewhere; there are several big farms in that neighbourhood where they would take her in. Don't think you have to be benefactor to the whole world!"
It was a day or two after this that, coming home from hunting, Justin paused on his way upstairs outside the drawing-room door.
Anstice was at the piano singing, in her mellow contralto, little songs to the children, and they were joining in the chorus.