"We say no, no, no, to Steppie leaving us," said Ruffie with a little sob, "and I'm so 'fraid you'll do it of a sudden, like you go from us gen'ally. We shall wake up one day and find Steppie gone. I'm so 'fraid of it, I can't sleep."
"You're a little duffer," said his father, stooping to kiss him. "Steppie, as you call her, doesn't want to come with me. She would hate it, she would hate leaving you. Wild horses wouldn't drag her."
"But if you want her—"
"If I want her, I shall have to do without her. And if we all want her, the best plan will be for me to stay at home, then we can all have each other. Will that please you?"
"Oh yes, that's a very good plan, the best you could make."
Ruffie gave a sigh of relief, and turned over on his pillow. Five minutes after, he was fast asleep.
After dinner that evening, Justin came into the drawing-room. As a rule he was in his smoking-room for most of the evening.
If Anstice was surprised, she did not show it.
He took the big easy chair by the fire.
"Now," he said, "I want some music. May I have it? I don't see why the children should be your only audience. You sing to them, I should like you to sing to me."