“Well?” asked Julian, suspiciously.
“And that is that if your errand is at an end you withdraw from my property until you can address me without insults.”
Julian’s face flushed; he opened his lips to speak, choked back the words, and arose from his chair.
“Don’t misunderstand me, please,” went on Winthrop, quietly. “I am not turning you out. I should be glad to have you remain as long as you like. Only, if you please, as long as you are in a measure my guest, you will kindly refrain from impertinent criticisms of my actions. I’d dislike very much to have you weaken my faith in Southern courtesy, Mr. Wayne.”
Julian’s reply was never made, for at that instant Holly and Miss India came out on the porch. Holly’s first glance was toward Winthrop. Then, with slightly heightened color, she greeted Julian kindly. He seized her hand and looked eagerly into her smiling face.
“Am I forgiven?” he asked, in an anxious whisper.
“Hush,” she answered, “it is I who should ask that. But we’ll forgive each other.” She turned to Winthrop, who had arisen at their appearance, and Julian greeted Miss India.
“What have you gentlemen been talking about for so long?” asked Holly, gayly.
“Many things,” answered Winthrop. “Mr. Wayne was kind enough to express his regrets for my accident. Afterwards we discussed”—he paused and shot a whimsical glance at Julian’s uneasy countenance—“Southern customs, obsolete and otherwise.”
“It sounds very uninteresting,” laughed Holly. Then—“Why, Uncle Ran hasn’t taken your horse around, Julian,” she exclaimed.