omething of an ordeal?" she said.

Winston looked down upon her gravely, and Miss Barrington noticed a
steadiness in his eyes she had not expected to see. "It was, and I
feel guilty because I was horribly afraid," he said. "Now I only
wonder if you will always be equally kind to me."

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 lo