good care of me that if I
consulted my inclinations I would linger in convalescence a long
while," he said. "Still, I must make an effort to get away
to-morrow."

"We cannot take the responsibility of letting you go under a week
yet," said Maud Barrington. "Have you anything especially important
to do?"

"Yes," said Winston, and the girl understood the grimness of his
face. "I have."

"It concerns the fire?"

Winston looked at her curiously. "I would sooner you did not ask me
that question, Miss Barrington."

"I scarcely fancy it is necessary," said the girl, with a little
smile. "Still, I have something to tell you, and a favor to ask.
Ferris has left Silverdale, and you must never make any attempt to
discover what caused the fire."

"You know?"

"Yes," said Maud Barrington. "Dane, Macdonald, and Hassal know, too,
but you will not ask them, and if you did they would not tell you."

"I can refuse you nothing," said Winston with a laugh, though his
voice betrayed him. "Still, I want a _quid pro quo_. Wait until
Ferris's farm is in the sale list and then take it with the growing
crop."

"I could not. There are reasons," said the girl.

Winston gazed at her steadily, and a little color crept to his
forehead, but he answered unconcernedly, "They can be over-ridden.
It may be the last favor I shall ever ask of you."

"No," said Maud Barrington. "Anything else you wish, but not that.
You must believe, without wondering why, that it is out of the
question!"

Winston yielded with a curious little smile. "Well," he said, "we
will let it drop. I ask no questions. You have accepted so much
already without understanding it."

CHAPTER XVIII

WITH THE STREAM

It was Winston's last afternoon at the Grange, and almost unpleasantly
hot, while the man whose vigor had not as yet returned to him was
content to lounge in the big window-seat listlessly watching his
companion. He had borne the strain of effort long, and the time of his
convalescence amid the tranquillity of Silverdale Grange had with the
gracious kindliness of Miss Barrington and her niece been a revelation
to him. There were moments when it brought him bitterness and
self-reproach, but these were usually brief, and he made the most of
what he knew might never be his again, telling himself that it would at
least be something to look back upon.

Maud Barrington sat close by, glancing through the letters a mounted
man had brought