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.