Part 46 (1/2)

”No,” said Miss Barrington. ”He has talked a good deal about you during the last two days, but he is sleeping now, and we did not care to disturb him. I am afraid you will find a great change in him when you see him.”

Winston asked no more questions on that topic until later in the evening, when he found a place apart from the rest by Miss Barrington's side. He fancied this would not have happened without her connivance, and she seemed graver than usual when he stood by her chair.

”I don't wish to pain you, but I surmise that Colonel Barrington is scarcely well enough to be consulted about anything of importance just now,” he said.

Miss Barrington made a little gesture of a.s.sent. ”We usually pay him the compliment, but I am almost afraid he will never make a decision of moment again.”

”Then,” said Winston slowly, ”you stand in his place, and I fancy you know why I have come back to Silverdale. Will you listen for a very few minutes while I tell you about my parents and what my upbringing has been? I must return to Winnipeg, for a time at least, to-morrow.”

Miss Barrington signed her willingness, and the man spoke rapidly with a faint trace of hoa.r.s.eness. Then he looked down on her.

”Madam,” he said, ”I have told you everything, partly from respect for those who only by a grim sacrifice did what they could for me, and that you may realize the difference between myself and the rest at Silverdale. I want to be honest now at least, and I discovered, not without bitterness at the time, that the barriers between our castes are strong in the old country.”

Miss Barrington smiled a little. ”Have I ever made you feel it here?”

”No,” said Winston gravely. ”Still, I am going to put your forbearance to a strenuous test. I want your approval. I have a question to ask your niece to-night.”

”If I withheld it?”

”It would hurt me,” said Winston. ”Still, I would not be astonished, and I could not blame you.”

”But it would make no difference?”

”Yes,” said Winston gravely. ”It would, but it would not cause me to desist. Nothing would do that, if Miss Barrington can overlook the past.”

The little white-haired lady smiled at him. ”Then,” she said, ”if it is any comfort to you, you have my good wishes. I do not know what Maud's decision will be, but that is the spirit which would have induced me to listen in times long gone by!”

She rose and left him, and it may have been by her arranging that shortly afterwards Winston found Maud Barrington pa.s.sing through the dimly-lighted hall. He opened the door she moved towards a trifle, and then stood facing her, with it in his hand.

”Will you wait a moment, and then you may pa.s.s if you wish,” he said.

”I had one great inducement for coming here to-night. I wonder if you know what it is?”

The girl stood still and met his gaze, though, dim as the light was, the man could see the crimson in her cheeks.

”Yes,” she said, very quietly.

”Then,” said Winston, with a little smile, though the fingers on the door quivered visibly, ”I think the audacity you once mentioned must have returned to me, for I am going to make a very great venture.”

For a moment Maud Barrington turned her eyes away. ”It is the daring venture that most frequently succeeds.”

Then she felt the man's hand on her shoulder, and, that he was compelling her to look up at him.

”It is you I came for,” he said quietly. ”Still, for you know the wrong I have done, I dare not urge you, and have little to offer. It is you who must give everything, if you can come down from your station and be content with mine.”

”One thing,” said Maud Barrington, very softly, ”is, however, necessary.”

”That,” said Winston, ”was yours ever since we spent the night in the snow.”