Miss Barrington smiled a little, but the man fancied there was a just perceptible tightening of the hand upon his arm. "I would like to be, for your mother's sake," she said.
Winston understood that while Courthorne's iniquities were not to be brought up against him, the little gentle-voiced lady had but taken him on trial; but, perhaps because it was so long since any woman had spoken kindly words to him, his heart went out towards her, and he felt a curious desire to compel her good opinion. Then he found himself seated near the head of the long table, with Maud Barrington on his other hand, and had an uncomfortable feeling that most of the faces were turned somewhat frequently in his direction. It is also possible that he would have betrayed himself, had he been burdened with self-consciousness, but the long, bitter struggle he had fought alone, had purged him of petty weaknesses and left him the closer grasp of essential things, with the strength of character which is one and the same in all men who possess it, whatever may be their upbringing.
During a lull in the voices, Maud Barrington, who may have felt it incumbent on her to show him some scant civility, turned towards him as she said, "I am afraid our conversation will not appeal to you. Partly because there is so little else to interest us, we talk wheat throughout the year at Silverdale."
"Well," said Winston with a curious little smile, "wheat as a topic is not quite new to me. In fact, I know almost more about cereals than some folks would care to do."
"In the shape of elevator warrants or Winnipeg market margins, presumably?"
Winston's eyes twinkled, though he understood the implication. "No," he said. "The wheat I handled was in 250-pound bags, and I occasionally grew somewhat tired of pitching them into a wagon, while my speculations usually consisted in committing it to the prairie soil, in the hope of reaping forty bushels to the acre and then endeavoring to be content with ten. It is conceivable that operations on the Winnipeg market are less laborious as well as more profitable, but I have had no opportunity or trying them."
Miss Barrington looked at him steadily, and Winston felt the blood surge to his forehead as he remembered having heard of a certain venture made by Courthorne which brought discredit on one or two men connected with the affairs of a grain elevator. It was evident that Miss Barrington had also heard of it, and no man cares to stand convicted of falsification in the eyes of a very pretty girl. Still, he roused himself with an effort.
"It is neither wise nor charitable to believe all one hears," he said.
The girl smiled a little, but the man still winced inwardly under her clear brown eyes, that would, he fancied, have been very scornful had they been less indifferent.
"I do not remember mentioning having heard anything," she said. "Were you not a trifle premature, in face of the proverb?"