Her Kingdom by Amy Le Feuvre

THE children's hour was over. Anstice sat outside on the terrace enjoying a rest. She heard their happy chatter in the rooms above her, as they were being got ready for bed. It was a lovely evening in late June. Roses were just beginning to riot in the rose-beds and over the walls of the old house. There was a sweet scent of jasmine and of stocks coming from the flower-beds by the hall door. She looked across the park, which was golden in the evening sun, to the still, dark-blue water of the lake, and to the purple Fells beyond it. Much as her soul was enjoying the peaceful beauty of the scene before her eyes, her thoughts were on a certain yacht in Norwegian fiords, and very much with the owner of it.

She and Justin had exchanged a few friendly letters, but she had not heard for a fortnight now, and could not write till she had received his fresh address. He had been gone a month. She wondered if he were on his way to America, and a certain wistfulness gathered in her eyes as for the hundredth time she began to speculate upon her future. She was so engrossed with her thoughts, and so screened by a tall myrtle tree in a tub, that she neither heard nor saw an arrival at the house.

A few minutes later, a shadow came between her and the setting sun; and looking quickly up, to her amazement she saw that it was Justin himself. He stood looking at her for a moment in silence, as she rose to her feet. His eyes were upon her with a grave, inscrutable gaze, but his words were simple and to the point.

"I could not keep away any longer," he said.

Her hand was in his, and he held it, but he did not stoop to kiss her.

The colour had risen in her cheeks. To Justin she had never appeared more beautiful. She was in a soft creamy tea-gown, with a bunch of pale pink roses at her breast. Her eyes looked into his with her soft, sweet candour, and the dimples played in her cheeks, as she smiled him a welcome. If her colour had risen, and her hand trembled ever so lightly as it lay in his, her voice was steadiness itself.

"This is a pleasant surprise. Has a letter gone astray? We did not expect you so soon."

"No. I suddenly determined to come home. I had finished what I went away to do, and so I am back."

He hesitated, then the noiseless Neale appeared.

"If you please, ma'am, the young ladies are in the hall, they and Master Ruffie have seen-"

Justin turned sharply round with an exclamation of impatience.

Anstice said with her happy laugh: "Ruffie has sent them down to bring you up, Justin. They are not in bed yet. What a state of delight he must be in! Come along!"

She led the way into the house.

Josie and Georgie in their blue dressing-gowns stood in the hall. Their notion of proprieties had prevented them straying farther.

"Oh, Dad, we're not asleep. Ruffie is having his milk and biscuits, and he wants-he wants you at once."

Justin's brow was smooth again.

He stooped and kissed them.

"I see well you're not asleep," he said, then he sped up the stairs, and the next moment had his boy in his arms. Ruffie, laying his soft cheek against his father's tanned one, whispered:

"God has answered me much quicker this time. Oh, Dad-I b'lieve I've just prayed and prayed you back, till you couldn't keep away any longer!"

"And that's just what I have said to your mother," replied Justin, pressing his lips to the red gold curls resting against his shoulder; "I couldn't keep away any longer!"