“Yes,” said Witham quietly. “There are two people here it is desirable for me to stand well with, and the first of them, your aunt, has, I fancy, already decided to give me a fair trial. She told me it was for my mother’s sake. Now, I can deal with your uncle.”
The girl smiled a little. “Are you quite sure? Everybody does not find it easy to get on with Colonel Barrington. His code is somewhat draconic.”
Witham nodded. “He is a man, and I hope to convince him I have at least a right to toleration. That leaves only you. The rest don’t count. They will come round by and by, you see.”
The little forceful gesture with which he concluded pleased Maud Barrington. It was free from vanity, but conveyed an assurance that he knew his own value.
“No friendship that is lightly given is worth very much,” she said. “I could decide better in another six months. Now it is perhaps fortunate that Colonel Barrington is waiting for us to make up his four at whist.”
Witham allowed a faint gesture of dismay to escape him. “Must I play?”
“Yes,” said the girl, smiling. “Whist is my uncle’s hobby, and he is enthusiastic over a clever game.”
Witham groaned inwardly. “And I am a fool at whist.”
“Then it was poker you played?” and again a faint trace of anger crept into the girl’s eyes.
Witham shook his head. “No,” he said. “I had few opportunities of indulging in expensive luxuries.”