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 in, and the fact that his presence put no restraint on
her curiously pleased the man. At last, however, she opened a paper
and passed it across to him.
"You have been very patient, but no doubt you will find something that
will atone for my silence there," she said.
Winston turned over the journal, and then smiled at her. "Is there
anything of moment in your letters?"
"No," said the girl, with a little laugh. "I scarcely think there
is--a garden party, a big reception, the visit of a high official, and
a description of the latest hat. Still, you know, that is supposed to
be enough for us.
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