A car was waiting for them. Mrs. Wykeham came up and said a few words to them as they were getting into it. She was intensely curious about Anstice, but saw that she was beyond criticism as to birth and breeding; and though she noted her deep mourning, she did not attempt to ask any of her usual inquisitive questions.
"I shall come and call very soon," she said cheerfully. "You don't know how glad we shall be that a mistress is coming to Butterdale Manor."
"Is she expecting social festivities, I wonder," said Anstice lightly, when Mrs. Wykeham had left them. "I fancy my position will be rather a difficult one."
"Not at all. Why should it be? You can entertain the neighbourhood as much as you like. I have laid down no restrictions, have I?"
"No," said Anstice, with a little amused curl to her lips; "I see that, as your wife, I cannot be hedged about in too marked a way. But I think, for my own peace of mind, the less I see of the outside world the better."
"May I ask why?"
Anstice looked at him. They were driving along in the gathering dusk. His profile by her side was set and determined.
"Well," she said in her sweetest tone, "the chatterers will naturally wonder why the wife has been deserted so soon. I shall not feel inclined to give them the solution, and I shall certainly not pose as an injured, aggrieved wife, so absolute indifference will be my rôle. It is, after all, the true state of things on both sides, is it not?"
"You have a sharp tongue," said Justin.
"I hope not. A true one."