One day he took Anstice and the children on the lake in a small motor launch belonging to the Wykehams; another day he went off for a nine-mile walk over the Fells with Anstice; he came to lunch; he came to tea; and when he finally left the neighbourhood, he paid his farewell visit after dinner.
It was a most lovely evening, and he and Anstice strolled down to the lake and sat beside it.
"I can't picture you here in the winter," he said, "but I suppose Justin will be back before then."
"He went for a six months' cruise. That will bring him back in time for Christmas," said Anstice.
"You must cure him of his restlessness."
"Well, I don't know," said Anstice thoughtfully; "it is not much of a life for him here. The farm is too small to give him occupation, the estate is not much bigger. He is not old enough to settle down here for good and all, and the love of the sea is not easily eradicated."
"Up to now he has not had much to keep him here. His house has not been his home."
"Perhaps not."
Anstice was sitting, gazing out dreamily over the lake. And Colonel Dermot, peculiarly susceptible to woman's charm, again wondered at Justin's desertion.
Anstice's grace and beauty, and her strong personality, had made a very deep impression on him.