face when Miss Barrington, stately as when he
had first seen her in her rustling silk and ancient laces, came forward
to greet him with her usual graciousness. He knew that every eye was
upon them, and guessed why she had done so much.

What she said was of no moment, but the fact that she had received him
without sign of coldness was eloquent, and the man bent very
respectfully over the little white hand. Then he stood straight and
square for a moment and met her eyes.

"Madam," he said, "I shall know whom to come to when I want a friend."

Afterwards he drifted towards a group of married farmers and their
wives, who, except for that open warranty, might have been less cordial
to him, and presently, though he was never quite sure how it came
about, found himself standing beside Maud Barrington. She smiled at
him, and then glanced towards one the open windows, outside which one
or two of the older men were sitting.

"The room is very hot," said Winston tentatively.

"Yes," said the girl. "I fancy it would be cooler in the hall."

They passed out together into the shadowy hall, but a little gleam of
light from the doorway behind them rested on Maud Barrington as she sat
down. She looked inquiringly at the man as though in wait for
something.

"It is distinctly cooler here," he said.

Maud Barrington laughed impatiently. "It is," she said.

"Well," said Winston, with a little smile, "I will try again. Wheat
has made another advance lately."

The girl turned towards him with a little sparkle in her eyes. Winston
saw it, and the faint shimmer of the pearls upon the whiteness of her
neck, and then moved his head so that he looked out upon the dusky
prairie.

"Pshaw!" she said. "You know why you were brought here to-night."

Winston admired her courage, but did not turn round, for there were
times when he feared his will might fail him. "I fancy I know why your
aunt was so gracious to me. Do you know that her confidence almost
hurts me?"

"Then why don't you vindicate it and yourself? Dane would be your
mouthpiece, and two or three words would be sufficient."

Winston made no answer for a space. Somebody was singing in the room
behind them, and through the open window he could see the stars in the
soft indigo above the great sweep of prairie. He noticed them vacantly
and took a curious impersonal interest in the two dim figures standing
close together outside the window. One was a young English