Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
She just listened to what he had to tell her.
Her Kingdom Book III, Chapter I. Frontispiece
HER KINGDOM
A STORY OF THE WESTMORELAND FELLS
BY
AMY LE FEUVRE
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
LONDON AND MELBOURNE
1929
Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
My Heart's in the Highlands
"The vividly human and moving story of Rowena and her wonderful power of influence in the lives of others will do every one good to read. Charmingly told in Amy Le Feuvre's best manner."—Northants Evening Telegraph.
A Girl and Her Ways
"Miss Le Feuvre writes with much charm and insight of the escapades of a modern girl who is fortunately possessed of the right spirit that enables her to overcome her difficulties."—The Record.
Jock's Inheritance
"Miss Le Feuvre has never written anything more beautiful or more amusing. The tone is as usual, excellent, and the story cannot fail to interest one and all."—Church of England Newspaper.
Noel's Christmas Tree
"Miss Le Feuvre has a classic style, and seems to be able to pierce straight into the heart of human beings. It is a humane book, written by a brilliant novelist."—Cornish Echo.
Adrienne
"The story of a really unselfish girl, touchingly and beautifully told."—Country Life.
"The story of Adrienne is delightful and particularly touching, and the author is to be heartily congratulated on evolving such a magnificent story."—Cornish Echo.
CONTENTS
BOOK I
STRANGERS
CHAP.
BOOK II
FRIENDS
[II. THE "BEST OF THE BARGAIN"]
[VIII. AN ENCOUNTER IN THE FELLS]
BOOK III
LOVERS
[I. "I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU"]
HER KINGDOM
BOOK I
STRANGERS
[CHAPTER I]
AN ASTOUNDING PROPOSAL
THE family lawyer had left her; she had listened with tightened lips, as through a labyrinth of legal phrases, he had informed her that she could only count upon five-and-twenty pounds per annum to feed, clothe, and provide for herself a roof to shelter her. She found herself smiling at the very absurdity of it. For six-and-twenty years she had lived in ease and comfort, almost in luxury. She had read in books about these reverses, but never had she imagined that they would come to her. She had not been educated for adversity, and she knew that not for a moment could she compete with the hundreds of trained certificated women who were flooding the labour markets throughout the country.
Anstice Barrett had lived for the greater part of her life in a country village in Norfolk. Her father had retired from the Army when he came into his small property, and when he was only a major in rank. He had foolishly commuted his pay, as the old house wanted more repairing than he could afford at the time; and he married late in life. Anstice had been brought up by resident governesses, and when, at sixteen, her mother died, she had quietly assumed the reins of government and become mistress of the sweet old manor house.
Unknown to her, Major Barrett, when difficulties arose, had purchased a life annuity for himself. He never thought of his girl's future. Whilst he lived, he had all the comforts he needed. Even through the War, when his ill-health prevented him from taking any part in it, there was little lack of all simple necessaries of life. He had the old-fashioned idea that women could not understand or handle money, and Anstice was kept in absolute ignorance of her father's exact income. At his death, she was suddenly and overwhelmingly enlightened. The manor house was mortgaged up to the hilt. Major Barrett had been in the hands of moneylenders for the previous five years, and the only thing that was preserved from the wreck was a small sum belonging to Anstice's mother in trust for her.
On this wild wet morning in March, Anstice was facing certain poverty. The loss of her home was a crushing blow, but she did not realize how bad things were, until she was told the exact amount of her future income.
Now she stood at the mullioned window of the old library, watching the lawyer drive off in his car, and wondering if she could and would awake from this horrible dream.
In a few minutes, she shook herself free of the torpor which seemed creeping over her.
She went out into the old hall, got down her waterproof cap and coat, and in a few minutes was walking briskly down the drive and out along the country-road. The wind and rain buffeted her face, and beat her back, but she braced herself to meet it, as mentally she was bracing herself to meet the disaster that had come to her.
She conned over her few relations; some cousins in town, busy in trying to make their very small income provide them a modicum of pleasure, combined with a sphere of usefulness. They had visited her at the manor house from time to time, and had envied her, her peaceful environment.
Then there was her father's brother living at a ranch in Australia, with a large growing family of sons and daughters. Finally there was an old cousin of her mother's, a Lady Lucy Harcourt, who lived about ten miles off with a companion, who had been with her for about twenty years. It was this cousin who came uppermost in her mind now.
"I think I shall go over to her, and get some advice. She's practical and sensible. Of course, I must do something at once. There is no time to be lost."
But she did not retrace her steps, she walked on for a couple of miles through pinewoods, and taking shelter in the depths of them, seated herself on a fallen tree-trunk to review the situation.
It was a good two hours later when she returned to her home; and then found that the very person she was needing had arrived in her car to lunch, and was waiting for her in the drawing-room.
Lady Lucy looked at the girl critically as she entered the room.
Anstice was tall and fair with deep blue eyes and pale gold hair which was coroneted round her head in a very unfashionable manner. She had determination in her chin and lips, sunny good temper in her eyes, and two dimples which came and went in her softly rounded cheeks.
"My dear!" exclaimed Lady Lucy. "You look blooming! What a complexion you have, and all without any artificial aid! It is good to be young."
Anstice laughed as she put up a hand to her blushing cheeks.
"I've been out in the wind and rain, Cousin Lucy. I never expected you over such an afternoon as this, but oh! I am glad to see you—"
Then soberness crept into her eyes and stayed there.
"It is nearly a month," she said, "since father left me, and only to-day did Mr. Stone tell me exactly what I may expect in the way of income. It has staggered me."
"I feared it would," said Lady Lucy gravely. "I knew more than you, poor child, have known. I should think you are left without a penny-piece!"
"That is a fact—twenty-five pounds a year. I must earn something at once. I am not afraid of work, and I am young and strong, but my capabilities for earning are almost nil."
"I have come over to-day for the express purpose of talking matters over with you. But all my ideas have been turned topsy-turvy by a visitor who arrived last night. I have just seen him off by train. Is that your luncheon bell? I may stay, may I not?"
"I shall be delighted. It is so good to have some one to talk to. I have been alone since—since his funeral."
They went into the dining-room together. The elderly house-parlour maid being present the whole time, they only talked about trifles, but when the meal was over, they went back to the drawing-room. Anstice stirred the fire, and then dipping into a low-cushioned chair opposite her cousin she looked expectantly at her.
"Have you any advice to give me?"
"My dear," said Lady Lucy, hesitating a little, "I have not only advice, but a—a post open for you, ready for you to accept, and that is what has brought me over. The last time I saw your poor father, he made full confession to me of the hash he had made over his money affairs. He lost a good deal in a foolish investment he made a few years ago, but he was insistent that you should not be told. And so I knew what a predicament you would be in."
She paused. She was an upright, handsome old lady, with very piercing dark eyes, and with great dignity of manner.
Now she seemed ill at ease.
"I had better tell you about my visitor first. You met him once at my house. He is a nephew of my late husband's, Justin Holme, a very handsome fellow, but of a roving disposition."
"I remember him. He was just married, and I heard afterwards that it was rather an unhappy affair. Didn't she leave him?"
"No. She was going to do so; but she was hurt in a motor accident, and the boy, the only one, was born prematurely, a cripple. She died at his birth, leaving two little daughters as well as this boy. Justin took to yachting. He has always been crazed for the sea. His house is in the wilds of Cumberland, by the lakes."
Anstice's gaze wandered out of the window. She was not interested in Lady Lucy's nephew. Her own future filled her thoughts.
"The poor man," went on Lady Lucy, noticing Anstice's abstraction and hurrying over her words, "has been distracted by his home worries. His girls seem mischievous hoydens, and a succession of governesses passes through the house. He has tried schools, they run away from them, or are expelled; the governesses make love to him, and scandal is busy. He spends or likes to spend most of his time away in his yacht; just now, there is the usual difficulty of servants, and he is at his wits' end. He came to me for help. And when we were talking things over, I thought of your love for children and the wonderful gift you have for managing them. And, my dear, he remembers you quite well. He said yours was not a face which could be forgotten. But he said no more. He seems to have turned into a woman-hater. Perhaps I ought not to say that, for he's anxious about his children; his boy especially, who is too young and delicate to go to school. Well, I won't beat about the bush. It won't be an easy task, but you will have a beautiful home, and you are nothing if not courageous."
"Am I to be governess and housekeeper in one? I couldn't do it, Cousin Lucy. I have not had the education to teach."
"Oh no, you won't have to teach. You can get some one else to do that. And he is nearly always away, so you would be entirely your own mistress."
"A lady housekeeper?"
Anstice felt dubious.
"He has already tried a good many. Why should I succeed more than any of the others?"
"Well, my dear, I won't say any more. He must speak to you himself. He has business in town, but he has promised to come down one day next week, and you must come to lunch and talk over things with him. It seems to have come at the right moment for you. I do hope you will agree to do it."
Lady Lucy seemed extraordinarily nervous. Anstice, who was very perceptive, wondered if there was anything in the background which she was keeping from her.
"He wants me to keep house and superintend the education of his children while he is away from home? I think if there's scandal about all the young women whom he has had there, that I may come in for my share!"
"No, no, my dear. That is just what he is going to prevent. I had better say no more. You must see him and talk to him yourself. Promise me, you will come over to lunch next Tuesday."
"My car is sold, how can I get to you?"
"I will send mine over for you. My dear Anstice, I have always been fond of you, and I foresee that happy days may be in front of you. You are not the girl to go up to London, and join the typewriting class, and starve in dingy lodgings, whilst you're doing it. Now I must be off! Will you order my car?"
Anstice rang the bell. She said little more to her old cousin, but wished her good-bye with rather wistful eyes.
Lady Lucy heaved a long sigh as she drove off, and murmured to herself:
"I don't believe she'll hear of it; but he must break it to her himself. I can't. He's a nice fellow, but is as hard as granite! A really charming character, spoiled by one bad woman."
And Anstice sat in her chair before her drawing-room fire all that afternoon, thinking, thinking, thinking!
Tea roused her, and for the rest of the day she occupied herself with the sad task of sorting out and destroying all her father's private letters and papers.
When Tuesday came, and Lady Lucy's car arrived, Anstice stepped into it, feeling that a great deal hung upon her personal interview with Mr. Justin Holme.
Lady Lucy welcomed her affectionately, but seemed vexed that Mr. Holme had sent a wire to say that he was delayed in town, and would not be down till between three and four in the afternoon.
Anstice told her she was glad to hear it.
"My interview is purely a business one with him. It will not take me long to discover what his actual needs are. But I must stipulate for a good salary."
"My dear, you need not think of money. He can well afford to give you all you need. I think one of his disadvantages through life has been too much money. He spends most of it in travelling all over the globe, but I always think he would have been a happier man, had he been obliged to earn his livelihood."
Anstice sat chatting with her old cousin in her drawing-room for a couple of hours after lunch. Miss Dawe, Lady Lucy's companion, took advantage of the occasion to go into the neighbouring town to do some shopping. And then about four o'clock, Lady Lucy's car returned from the station with the guest.
He came striding into the drawing-room with such vigour that he seemed to bring a fresh atmosphere into the quiet there.
"We do not need to be introduced," he said to Anstice, as he shook hands with her. "May I express sympathy for your loss?"
"Thank you," Anstice said.
He looked at her quickly; but after that first moment, his gaze never met hers again. She was a graceful figure in her black gown, which seemed to enhance the fairness of her hair and skin. He would not sit down, but stood on the hearth-rug and talked to Lady Lucy. Anstice saw a man with a strong resolute face, and a smile that might have been sweet, had it not been for a cynical twist to the lips. His hair was dark, his eyes hard and restless. His voice was a peculiarly pleasant one. Lady Lucy was not herself, she seemed nervous and distrait, and at last she rose from her seat.
"I will leave you now to discuss your business together."
"No," remonstrated Anstice. "Why should we turn you out of your room? Let us go to the library."
So to the library they went. It was a big, rather shabby room, used by Miss Dawe for cleaning bird-cages and arranging flowers. The books lined against the walls were old and fusty, and never used.
Anstice stood looking out of the window upon the lawns outside. Then Justin Holme drew up a chair for her before the fire, and she sat down. He began to pace up and down the room, and she was amused to see that he seemed to be getting nervous.
She spoke first to put him at ease.
"Well, Mr. Holme, my cousin tells me you want some one to look after your house and children in the North. You have heard that I am selling up my home, and looking for a job. Do you think I shall suit you? Of course, I must hear a few more particulars first."
He drew a quick breath.
"Of course, of course. It is a comfortable old house close to the river and lakes; but is well above them, so it's healthy. It is lovely. I don't want to conceal that fact. There are a few nice neighbours. My children adore their home; that's the only point we have in common. They won't stay at school, and I'm tired of trying to force them to do so. The boy is mostly confined to his couch. They're all three chock-full of mischief, and are thorough rebels of the first water! But I hear you have a flair for troublesome children."
"I love any child," said Anstice, with warmth. "They're the freshest, most wholesome things in creation, with all their powers and possibilities awaiting them."
"I rather think my youngsters only want a little more understanding. But as far as education and training go, they're little heathens."
"Do you want me as a governess or a housekeeper, or both?"
"No," said Justin Holme, turning his back upon her and gazing out of the window, "as neither—I want you as a wife."
"A wife!"
Anstice repeated his words, in utter amazement and incredulity.
He turned round, but though he faced her, his eyes were on the glowing coals. He would not meet her indignant gaze.
"Listen to me, please."
He spoke sternly.
"I give you my name to give you the right position in my house. I am sick of the constant changes there. It will be a mere matter of form, but you will have a home, and every comfort, and a chance of creating order out of chaos and of influencing my young barbarians. I am nearly always away. You must look upon me as a negligible quantity. My aunt said you would be the one for the position. I asked her to find some one for me. We are strangers, I know. But I believe in my aunt's judgment, and now I have seen you, I believe in you."
"A very one-sided bargain, isn't it?"
Anstice's tone was cool and aloof.
"I am to be debarred of my freedom, and only gain a roof as a shelter, and a very strenuous life of struggling with unruly children and servants. And I am to be married to you so as to ensure my being a permanency."
"Yes. It sounds diabolical," said Justin, with a short laugh; "but it's the only way out of my difficulties, as far as I can see, and it is all I can offer you. A home, and the possible love of another person's children. That, I believe, might appeal to some women. But you are free to take the offer or refuse it. I shall settle something on you, of course, and you will have your own banking account and cheque book. You will not be stinted in money and will have a free hand in most things. You can think it over and let me know in a week or so. If you agree to my proposal, I want to settle things up before I take a trip out to the South Sea Islands. We could be married at a Registrar's in town. I won't suggest a Church Service, as it is a strictly business arrangement between us and nothing more. And then I would take you down home and introduce you to the youngsters, and leave you with them. I should go off with an easy mind, for by hearsay I have formed a high opinion of your capabilities."
Anstice could only gaze at him in absolute bewilderment of mind. Did he really imagine for a moment that she would assent to such an astounding proposal? She found herself smiling at the very idea of it.
"You are a most extraordinary man," she said after a moment's silence. "Do you go through life entirely one-sided? Do you never think of other people's desires and needs?"
He was pacing up and down the room, and reminded her of a caged animal. Now he half turned towards her, and his tone was hauteur itself:
"I am thinking of a great many people in this venture, myself last of all. It won't affect me or touch my life. It is the need of my children that makes this step essential. I must marry again for their sakes."
"Oh, don't call it marriage. It is a business arrangement." Anstice spoke hotly.
She was furious with her cousin for letting her in for such an interview as this. She was humiliated, and indignant at having such a proposal made to her.
"I had better decline your kind offer at once," she said, and her tone was biting. "We need not prolong the interview, need we?"
"I am sorry if I have offended you by my proposition. I should not have spoken to you, but your cousin gave me to understand that you are one of these modern women who prefer to be independent and live a single life. It's what I prefer myself, and she said you were a passionate child-lover. You would be absolutely free and unfettered. You would have been willing to come to me as a lady housekeeper or governess. Am I not offering you a better position than either of those?"
He spoke very quietly, almost despondently.
Something in his tone made Anstice feel ashamed of her momentary exhibition of temper. She was very sweet tempered as a rule. Now her voice softened.
"I don't wish to be discourteous. It has been a misunderstanding on my part. I dare say you may get other more suitable women than myself, to fall in with your proposal."
She rose from her seat and left the room. Then, when she had found Lady Lucy, she expressed her feelings. Lady Lucy at first looked quite frightened, then set her lips, and began to remonstrate.
"You are a foolish, silly girl! Here are you without a penny-piece to your name, obliged to go out into the world and scrape and save enough to keep body and soul together. It's a life of drudgery and toil, and you are utterly unfit for it. You've always told me you don't care for men. I have known you refuse three of them. Here is an ideal home offered to you, wealth and comfort and an assured position, and no man to worry you. Justin will always roam the world, I am afraid. Because your pride is touched, and he doesn't want you for yourself, only for what you can give his home and children, you consider yourself insulted and injured. I consider Justin is offering you a great deal. You have always posed as one who wants to help her fellow-creatures. Here is a chance to benefit these poor neglected children. I suppose the real fact is that you are hoping for marriage with some one else. Have you anyone in your mind?"
This was turning the tables upon her with a vengeance indeed! The blood rushed to her cheeks, and then she laughed.
"You know, Cousin Lucy, the answer to that question. We are getting angry with each other, so I think I had better go home."
"My dear child, I am not angry, only very sorry that you have judged and decided so hastily. I do beseech you to take time and think things out. I own I have a vision ahead of you and Justin drawing together and settling down as an ideal couple. He is such a nice fellow when you really know him. Circumstances have soured and embittered him, and several women whom I know well by name are pursuing him ruthlessly, with the intent of being mistress of his home. It makes him hard in his outlook towards women. Do, I implore you, weigh matters well, and don't give any definite answer now. If you will go, I won't try to keep you. I will order the car round. Have you said good-bye to Justin?"
"I left him. I don't want to see him again."
But as she said the words Justin himself opened the door and walked into the room.
"Oh, here you are," said Lady Lucy cheerfully, "just in time to see Anstice off in the car. She is going to think over matters. It has been a bombshell to her, and perhaps I ought to have prepared her for your interview. Not a word, Anstice; you are going home to think things over, and I shall try and keep Justin with me for a few days, whilst you have time to make your decision. Young people often spoil their lives by impulsiveness. Good-bye, my dear."
Lady Lucy stopped further remonstrance from Anstice by kisses. Then she gently pushed her towards the door.
Justin went along the big hall with her, and as they stood in the porch waiting for the car which was coming round the drive, he said very quietly:
"May I give you a subject for your thoughts, a miserable harassed man, who thought he was steering into a peaceful harbour, and instead finds himself among the rocks again."
"I suppose," said Anstice slowly, "I am really a selfish woman. I am unwilling to sacrifice my life, and all that it entails, to ease a man who cannot shoulder his burden. If only you realized how little wealth and comfort appeal to me. Perhaps it is because I have never been without a certain amount of it in my life. It is possible that if you had waited to make your proposition till I had failed to procure any work, and was entirely starving and homeless, I might have listened to you more calmly."
"I will wait if you like," said Justin in his dry, matter-of-fact tone.
Anstice laughed again. She laughed very often when she felt near tears.
"Oh," she said impulsively, "what disadvantages we women have, in spite of all our modernity! Men rove over the sea when they have domestic troubles. It is women's part to put their shoulders to the wheel and create order out of chaos! Cousin Lucy is very angry with me, but I am not unreasonable; and I will think matters over, and write to you. Give me till the beginning of next week. This is Thursday. On Monday, I will send you my answer."
She held out her hand, and he took it and gripped it.
"If you have any womanly feeling, you will help me," he said, and then wheeling round, he disappeared into the house; and the car glided down the drive, and Anstice was left alone to her reflections.
She suddenly saw herself in Southampton Docks by the side of a big liner taking troops to France. She was standing with her hands in another's, with a cold set face of misery, meeting the yearning, agonizing glance of the handsome boy by her side. Only a boy and girl affair. Yet that parting, and the subsequent terse telegram announcing the death of a promising young officer, left marks on Anstice's soul that she would bear to her dying day. It had made her indifferent to men, it had made her determined to enjoy a single life for the rest of her days on earth.
And now she was asked to link her life to one who was supremely indifferent to her, who purposed to bind her to him merely for the mitigation of his home difficulties. "Womanly feeling!" She must have womanly feeling and sympathy for him and for his children, but what manly feeling had he for her?
Sitting in the car with her clasped hands in her lap, she was a picture of serene, contented youth, and yet in her heart, a seething passion of bewilderment, wounded pride, and indignation, coupled with uncertainty and doubt, was passing to and fro.
She had not enough religion in her life to help her, but she had a real love for children. Perhaps the thought of the little crippled boy and his mischievous sisters in a lonely house in the country, with no one to comfort or guide or train them except a succession of unsatisfactory governesses, made more impression upon her than she realized.
For when, after tossing about in her bed that night, unable to rest or sleep, she fell off at last into an uneasy slumber, she had a very vivid dream.
She thought she was standing on a stony beach, watching tremendous waves roll in from the ocean and break in a thundering roar at her feet. Suddenly, far away, she spied a small boat being driven towards her. In it were helpless children sending out shrill cries for aid.
She knew they were being driven on the rocks, but she stared at them dully, saying over and over again:
"I cannot help you."
And then distinctly the voice of her boy lover spoke to her:
"I lost my life for such as these; will you not save them? Is it not your turn?"
And then she plunged into the foaming sea, and battled for her life as she swam to meet that boat. She found an end of rope which the children flung out, and with this wound round her body, she swam back to the beach and rocks. All the time that she was struggling with the waves, she had the consciousness that her lover was watching for and waiting for her, and when finally the beach was reached, she opened her arms to embrace him. But to her consternation, the man who stood like a sentinel against the cliffs, and who moved forwards to meet her, was not her lover, but Justin Holme!
With a cry of anguish, she awoke.
There was no more sleep that night.
When the morning came she rose with an aching head and troubled heart.
But she found herself instinctively imagining the relief and comfort a capable woman might bring to that disordered and most unhappy home. And though one part of her stoutly resisted all thoughts of herself being that one, another part of her was mentally arranging and sorting out her personal possessions with the view of going up North.
[CHAPTER II]
THE STRANGE MARRIAGE
ON Monday morning, Anstice was surprised to get the following letter from Justin Holme:
"DEAR MISS BARRETT,—
"I am writing to you, because I feel that in our interview yesterday I was rude, abrupt, and much too peremptory. I was ill at ease, and did not control my feelings. Now I realize that I prejudiced you against me to start with; I rushed into my needs when I ought to have kept them in the background till I had gained your liking. I desperately want a stepmother for my children, but I frankly own that at present I am not a family man—I am too much of a rover to settle down. It seems a hopeless impasse, unless we determine to wed under the conditions I proposed. I am trading, I am afraid, on your love for children. I would ask you to come as housekeeper or governess, but feel convinced after so many experiences in that line that you might be only another failure. My children are dead set against all species of governesses and housekeepers. The only chance for them is a real second mother.
"I do implore you to give us a chance. Forgive my selfishness. I am entirely thinking of my own happiness and welfare, not of yours. But perhaps one day you may teach me to do so.
"I will subscribe myself—
"A very unhappy man who sees a light before him which he fears he will fail to reach.
"JUSTIN HOLME."
Anstice sat with this upon her knee. When she had left her room that morning, she had felt a reaction set in. She could not give up her life for such a position, to please a perfect stranger—a man who had been so embittered and soured by the treatment which he had received from one woman that he determined never to let any other woman enter his life.
And now this letter had made the pendulum swing the other way again. Her dream became more vivid to her. This was an unhappy, disillusioned, desperate man, who was not content to fling his responsibility as regards his children to the winds. That was the only good trait in his character. He was so anxious about them, that he was willing to tie himself up for life to a woman for whom he had no affection or desire.
What a tangle it all was!
All that day the battle raged in her heart.
But on Tuesday morning, when Justin Holme came to his aunt's breakfast table, he found the following letter awaiting him:
"DEAR MR. HOLME,—
"Thank you for your letter. I have thought a great deal; and time and thought have altered my point of view. In spite of a natural great distaste to the step you wish me to take, I will do my best to be a second mother to your children, if you still wish it. I leave you to make all plans, asking you to let me know your arrangements as soon as you can. But I must have three clear weeks before I can leave my home. After that, it will be in the market for sale.
"Yours sincerely,
"ANSTICE BARRETT."
Justin read this slowly. He read it more than once, then folded it between his fingers, and gazed thoughtfully out of the window.
Lady Lucy, from her post behind the silver tea service, looked at him with eager, anxious eyes.
"Well, Justin, what does she say? I know you have heard from her."
"The answer is in the affirmative," was the brief reply.
Lady Lucy heaved a sigh.
"Sensible girl. I felt that she needed to be saved from her impulsiveness! I can tell you again, Justin, that you have a woman in a thousand! Anstice is old for her age, as capable and efficient as—as a man, and she's just sweetness itself when you come to know her. She couldn't do a dishonourable thing. Courageous, unselfish, and loving. What could you want more for your children, to say nothing for yourself?"
"Leave me out of it," said Justin sharply. "She is quick to recognize that it is the children who need her and not I. But—she makes me wait three weeks!"
"You impatient man! What are three weeks out of a lifetime? I must go to her at once. She must have some kind of a trousseau."
Justin frowned heavily.
"Are you picturing us having a fashionable wedding? Don't you realize that we shall do the Registrar's business on our way up North!"
"I know that I mean to be with her when the rite is performed," said Lady Lucy. "The Registrar's Office is the only part of the business that I disapprove of."
Justin was silent. It had been rather a shock to him when Anstice had so curtly refused to entertain his proposition. Women had pursued him since his wife's death. It was quite unusual for any woman to dislike him. He had been at first amused, then angry, when Anstice had spoken so frankly and straightly upon the subject. Now he weighed her few words carefully. It was certainly a whole-hearted surrender. What had influenced her, he wondered, to alter her views? He would rather like to have had an inkling of her thoughts. And then he summarily dismissed her from his mind. He had got what he wanted, and very soon now he would be scudding through the ocean waves, leaving all his responsibilities behind him.
An hour later, and he was in the express train for town; and Lady Lucy was driving over in her car to see her young cousin, and to give her advice concerning this strange marriage.
* * * * *
Sitting in a first-class carriage being whirled along to the North, Anstice looked out of the window with a dazed expression in her clear blue eyes. Opposite to her was a man almost a stranger to her, and yet the uncomfortable, unnatural feel of the gold band on her finger under her glove reminded her that he was her husband.
She looked back to the events of the last two days. She had come up to town with her cousin who had taken rooms at the Grosvenor Hotel. Lady Lucy had wanted to ask Justin round to dinner on the eve of their arrival, but Anstice had begged for a quiet evening alone with her.
Anstice had retired early to bed, and Justin came round to find her gone. She did not see him till she stood with her cousin at the Registrar's Office. Lady Lucy had insisted that they should come back to the Grosvenor to have an early lunch, and then they wished her good-bye, and went off in a taxi to Euston Station.
It was an awkward moment when Lady Lucy said to Justin:
"You must take care of her and make her happy. And don't forget she has given up her own life to become your wife."
Justin contracted his brows, but said not a word.
Then Lady Lucy turned to Anstice:
"God bless you, child, and if those children are too much for you, when Justin is the other side of the world, and you get lonely or ill, send for me, and I will come to you."
"Thank you, Cousin Lucy. That is good of you."
Anstice had kissed her cousin warmly. For one moment, as she stood in the hotel lounge drawing her gloves on, and watching her luggage being taken to the taxi, panic had seized hold of her.
What was she doing? What had she done? Taken an irrevocable step which might lead to disaster, but which certainly seemed devoid of any brightness or real happiness for herself. Why had she sacrificed herself for a man's whim and gratification? He was demanding all her powers and personality in his service, and giving her nothing of himself in return.
This moment of panic passed, and quietly and serenely she accompanied Justin to the station, accepted the magazines and a box of chocolates he gave her, and now as the train started and he immersed himself in his papers, she gazed out of the window and reviewed the situation.
Suddenly he put down his paper and spoke:
"We have not had much time for any quiet conversation. If there is anything you want to ask me connected with house or children, now is the opportunity. I shall be very busy when I reach home, for I shall have a lot of things to arrange with my farm bailiff."
"I should certainly like to know a few things," said Anstice quietly. "To begin with, I should like to know the ages of your children."
"The boy is eight, the girls a year or two older. I'm afraid I don't know their exact ages."
"And how many servants have you?"
He gave a short laugh.
"I cannot answer that. Sometimes I arrive to find that there are none, barring Brenda—she's the boy's personal attendant—nurse, I suppose, you'd consider her. Eliza Falkland, my farmer's wife, comes in to cook whenever we want her. Personally I want no better cook than she is. I give you carte blanche to have as many servants as you need. The little girls are looked after by their governesses. But they have been without one for the last six weeks—Brenda sees to them. I won't advise you what to do. Running a house is a woman's work, not a man's."
Anstice was silent.
"You'll have a good roomy trap and stout cob for the children's use. I did have a car, but the governesses were always out in it with their friends, so I gave it up. I'm home so seldom that I hire when I want one. I ride a good deal. My mare is kept at the farm."
"Am I to be allowed to invite a friend to stay with me occasionally?"
"You are hardly in the same category as the governesses," he said dryly; "and I suppose you had better have a car. I'll see about it."
"No," said Anstice decidedly. "I prefer the trap. How long do you intend to be away?"
"About five or six months."
"Then let the car wait till you come home again. I am fond of the country and am never dull in it. You generally use cars to get away from your surroundings. I shall settle down like a cat, and be quite content with the cob. Do you wish me to have anything to do with the farm?"
He looked at her reflectively.
"Bob Falkland isn't good at writing. He runs the farm pretty well on his own, but if any difficulties arise I will tell him to come to you, and if you can't cope with them, you can write to me."
"What is your nearest town?"
"Penrith. You have no difficulties in the way of supplies. For Penrith contains all that we need. Any more questions?"
"No, thank you. Not at present."
He returned to his paper, and Anstice to her magazines. They had the carriage to themselves until they came to Crewe. Then he took her to the restaurant car to have tea. They were talking pleasantly together about the country in general, when suddenly a stout, handsome-looking woman came across from her seat opposite them, and accosted Justin.
"Well, you gad-about," she said playfully. "Where do you come from? Going home for twenty-four hours, I suppose, as usual."
"Let me introduce you to my wife," said Justin gravely. Then turning to Anstice, he said: "This is our nearest neighbour, Mrs. Wykeham."
Anstice could see that Justin's announcement was a distinct shock to the lady, though she concealed it as best she could.
"Yes, I live about eight miles away, but that is nothing in these days. Well, Justin, I must congratulate you. All your troubles will be over now. Are the children expecting you? They were not two days ago. I met them in the lanes having a riotous time with Hal Cross, who was driving them."
"No," said Justin; "we're taking them by surprise."
"I hope," said Mrs. Wykeham, addressing Anstice with a merry twinkle in her eyes, "that he has prepared you as to the propensities of his small folk. They are exceedingly formidable as foes, but quite engaging as friends."
"I hope I shall find them my friends," said Anstice with her pleasant smile. She was astonished at her own composure, but the fact that her husband was uneasy and uncomfortable, gave her the assurance she needed.
"Have you ever been up in these parts before?" asked Mrs. Wykeham.
"Never," replied Anstice. "It is all new country to me. I am looking forward to seeing the Lake District. I have always heard that it is so lovely!"
"Well, well, I am more glad than I can say, Justin, that you are settling down at last. I shall hope to make my call on Mrs. Holme very soon."
She stepped back to her table, and Justin drew a breath of relief. As he sat down to his tea, he looked across at Anstice, with a queer little smile.
"I hope you know how to hold your own. You will need all your discretion in an interview with Mrs. Wykeham. She is our local gossip, and tells me all the iniquities of my household whenever I set eyes on her. She's good-natured, and a meddler, and she's always upsetting other people's apple-carts. But she's a real friend if you're in trouble—so people say—for myself, I've had no use for her."
"I shall get on very well with her," said Anstice, "and eight miles away is better than at our gates."
He shook his head.
"Eight miles is nothing to her. She'll be perpetually running in and out, you will find. She's one of those poor souls who lives on people, their sayings and doings. I've choked her off when I'm at home; you had better do the same if you want any peace."
"I'll wait and see," said Anstice, smiling; "I am not going to quarrel with my neighbours if I can help it."
They were soon back in their own carriage.
Mrs. Wykeham had nodded and smiled to them as they passed her.
"We shall see each other at Penrith. Have you a car meeting you, Justin, or may I take you with me?"
"I have a car, thank you."
He spoke a little curtly. He was vexed at meeting Mrs. Wykeham and knew the news of his marriage would be all over the neighbourhood, and he had wanted to get away before the fact was known.
They had little more conversation together. Anstice grew very tired, and, leaning her head back in the corner, went fast asleep. And then it was that for the first time Justin took a very long and critical inspection of her features.
He was absolutely indifferent to her personality. It was expediency that had made him marry her, and his heart was steeled against all women. Yet there was something in the tender softness of Anstice's smile, and in the vivid sparkling of her blue eyes, that made him feel glad he had chosen her to be the custodian of his children.
"She'll be good to them, and give me no trouble," was his summing up; "and she will give Mrs. Wykeham no cause for writing me one of her catty letters."
It was very late when they at length reached Penrith. The freshness and sweetness of the air struck Anstice as she got out of the heated train.
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."
Silence fell between them, then she drew in a long breath of delight as they passed along in full view of the beautiful lake with the Fells on the other side. Turning to him again, she said:
"Forgive me, if I have seemed discourteous. You have given me a great deal besides your name, and I should be ungrateful to forget it. All this will be real joy to me. To live in one of the most beautiful spots in England will be delightful."
Justin's brow cleared. He began pointing out several places of interest. To Anstice, this drive through wooded heights with the blue Fells behind against the sunset sky was one of pure pleasure. And then as the dusk deepened, they came along buttercup meadows and pastureland, passing various small hamlets where lights were already twinkling through the cottage windows.
It was dark when they turned in at some big gates on the high road and up an avenue of chestnuts now opening into flower.
"The gardens are not as tidily kept as they should be. Cross, my gardener, is getting old, and his son Hal, who works under him, and minds the pony and poultry yard, is better at vegetables than flowers. I dare say, if you were to take an interest in the place, they would do better. Here we are!"
He handed her out of the car, and led her up the steps. The door was opened to them by a pleasant-looking young woman.
"This is Brenda," said Justin, turning to Anstice. "She's our only stand-by."
Anstice held out her hand.
"I have heard about you," she said, with her winning smile. "I am afraid we are very late in arriving."
"The children are in bed, I suppose?" Justin asked, as they entered a big, dimly-lit hall, and made their way into a room which was dubbed the library, but which seemed used for general purposes, and was littered with children's toys and games. There was a fire, and a round table drawn up to it on which was laid the supper for the travellers.
"Yes, sir, they are all asleep. They tried hard to keep awake. Happily for all of us, they could not manage it. Will you like to come upstairs to your room, ma'am?"
"Thank you, I should."
So Anstice was led up bare black oak stairs to a very big, old-fashioned bedroom.
"The late Mrs. Holme slept here," murmured Brenda. "I hope it will be comfortable for you."
Anstice said nothing. She walked to the window and drew aside the thick curtains to look out, but a dense mist and the darkness prevented any sort of view.
Her luggage was soon brought up. It was not long before she was down in the old library again. And Justin joined her, apologizing for not having changed into evening clothes.
A couple of ducks, and a fruit tart with cheese and biscuits, were set before them. Brenda brought in everything and then left them. It all seemed primitive to Anstice, and as she looked about the dreary, untidy room, she wondered if she would ever be able to improve it.
Justin caught her wandering gaze.
"I told Brenda we ought to have meals in the dining-room, but if you can believe it, she was afraid of making the change because of the children. I told her to tell them nothing. They think you are a fresh governess. I must explain to-morrow. I've always had meals in this room. I dare say you will be able to make the drawing-room comfortable for yourself, and there is another sitting-room shut up—the morning-room. It has been a question of servants; but if you can get some in, you will be able to run the house as it used to be."
"I will look over the house to-morrow," said Anstice cheerfully.
"I have been thinking," went on Justin, "that now you will be here looking after things, I believe you could get a very good daily governess for the girls. There's a Mrs. Fergusson, an elderly lady, who was a governess to some Russian Count's family for many years. She's a very clever woman, and offered at one time to give up her mornings to my small folk; but it would not have answered then, as I wanted a resident governess for them, and she could not give her whole time. She lives about two miles from here. Mrs. Wykeham could tell you about her."
"That sounds feasible. Do the children know her?"
Justin gave a short laugh. "They heard about her and told me they would stand no old woman about them! They're first-class little rebels, but you may be able to tame them."
He said little more during the rest of the meal. Immediately it was over, Brenda appeared, saying that Bob Falkland was waiting to speak to Justin. Justin went out at once, and for nearly an hour was shut in the smoking-room with his bailiff.
When he came out, he went into the library expecting to see Anstice sitting over the fire, but she had gone, and Brenda informed him that the mistress was tired, and had gone to bed.
At that moment, Anstice was leaning out of her open window inhaling the fragrant scent of a sweetbriar bush, and watching the moon struggling through the mist which surrounded it.
She had had a strange experience when first coming into her room. Her bed was one of the large, old-fashioned, four-posted testers, and looking at it with a little distaste, and wondering if she might be compelled to sleep on a feather bed, she saw a movement in the middle of it under the blankets. Thinking it might be a cat or dog which had crept in there, she hastily turned back the bedclothes, and there she found a hedgehog wriggling about. She seized hold of her bath towel and enfolding the intruder in it, opened her door to take it downstairs, but Brenda happened to be passing along the passage, so she called her.
Brenda threw up her hands in horror.
"Those wicked children! They've done it, ma'am. It's a mistake the master keeping it from them who you are. They think you're a fresh governess. I may tell you now that I prepared the dining-room with all the best china and silver, and Miss Georgie went in and seized hold of the cloth and pulled the whole of it off upon the ground. Such a smash of the beautiful dishes and plates. It properly upset me. I didn't like to tell the master to-night. They're furious, because the master's message to them was that he was bringing a lady to stay this time, and they're determined to drive you away quicker than they've driven the other ones."
Anstice laughed, though she did not feel like laughing.
"I must share in their fun," she said. "Don't look so troubled, Brenda. I must try and come to an understanding with them as soon as possible. Is this a pet beastie?"
"Yes, his name is Joshua, but they have been forbidden to bring him into the house. I'll take him back to his shed where he sleeps."
Anstice went back to her room. She did not anticipate an easy time, and yet longed to make acquaintance with these young rebels. It was rather a forlorn beginning of her new life, and she was at her window still wrapt in meditation when she heard Justin come up to his room next hers, and move about. Then she crept quietly into bed and fell asleep, not to wake till the sun was shining in a clear blue sky, and the birds singing in the garden beneath her window.
[CHAPTER III]
MAKING FRIENDS
BEFORE she dressed, Anstice went again to her window, and this time she could not help giving a cry of delight.
Such an exquisite view was before her. First a sloping green park with magnificent old spreading trees grouped here and there, under which cattle were browsing, then the blue lake like a sheet of glass lying between the purple Fells, which ranged themselves around it, in various heights and shapes, and with beautiful shadows passing to and fro. Directly underneath her window was a wide terrace walk; then, on a lower level, a well-kept lawn, on one side of which was a long herbaceous border already bright with flowers. At the bottom of the lawn was an old wall covered with fruit trees and flowering shrubs and creepers, and a gate in the middle of it which led into the park.
An hour later she left her room; for a big bell was ringing, and that was a summons to breakfast.
She had heard childish voices about the house, and once, from her window, had a flying glimpse of two short-frocked, long-legged girls, chasing each other across the lawn.
As she was crossing the corridor outside her room to go downstairs, she passed a room which had the door open, and heard her husband's voice: he evidently had caught sight of her, and called her in.