A flash of some quick feeling passed through Winnington's eyes.
"Why should you? Leave us older folk, dear Miss Delia, to deal with these sorrowful things."
Indignation blazed up in her.
"It is for women to help women," she said, passionately. "It is no good treating us who are grown up—even if we are young—like children any more. We intend to know—that we may protect—and save."
"I assure you," said Winnington gravely, "that this poor girl shall have every care—every kindness. So there is really no need for you to know. Please spare yourself—and me!"
He had come to stand by her, looking down upon her. She lifted her eyes to his unwillingly, and as she caught his smile she was invaded by a sudden consciousness of his strong magnetic presence. The power in the grey eyes, and in the brow over-hanging them, the kind sincerity mingled with the power, and the friendliness that breathed from his whole attitude and expression, disarmed her. She felt herself for a moment—and for the first time—young and ignorant,—and that Winnington was ready to be in the true and not merely in the legal sense, her "guardian," if she would only let him.
But the moment of weakening was soon over. Her mind chafed and twisted. Why had he undertaken it—a complete stranger to her! It was most embarrassing—detestable—for them both!
And there suddenly darted through her memory the recollection of a certain item in her father's will. Under it Mr. Winnington received a sum of £4,000 out of her father's estate, "in consideration of our old friendship, and of the trouble I am asking him to undertake in connection with my estates,"—or words to that effect.
Somehow, she had never yet paid much attention to that clause in the will. It occurred in a list of a good many other legacies, and had been passed over by the lawyers in explaining the will to her, as something entirely in the natural course of things. But the poisonous thought suggested itself—"It was that which bribed him!—he would have given it up, but for that!" He might not want it for himself—very possibly!—but for his charities, his Cripple School and the rest. Her face stiffened.
"If you have arranged with her father, of course I can't interfere," she said coldly. "But don't imagine, please, Mr. Winnington, for one moment, that I accept your view of the things I 'needn't know.' If I am to do my duty to the people on this estate—"