“Would it be of any moment if I were?” she said.

“Yes,” said Winston quietly.  “There are two people here it is desirable for me to stand well with, and the first of them, your aunt, has, I fancy, already decided to give me a fair trial.  She told me it was for my mother’s sake.  Now, I can deal with your uncle, I think.”

The girl smiled a little.  “Are you quite sure?  Everybody does not find it easy to get on with Colonel Barrington.  His code is somewhat Draconic, and he is rather determined in his ways.”

Winston nodded.  “He is a man, and I hope to convince him I have at least a right to toleration.  That leaves only you.  The rest don’t count.  They will come round by and by, you see.”

The little forceful gesture, with which he concluded, pleased Maud Barrington.  It was free from vanity, but conveyed an assurance that he knew his own value.

“No friendship that is lightly given is worth very much,” she said.  “I could decide better in another six months.  Now it is perhaps fortunate that Colonel Barrington is waiting for us to make up his four at whist.”

Winston allowed a faint gesture of dismay to escape him.  “Must I play?”

“Yes,” said the girl, smiling.  “Whist is my uncle’s hobby and he is enthusiastic over a clever game.”

Winston groaned inwardly.  “And I am a fool at whist.”

“Then it was poker you played?” and again a faint trace of anger crept into the girl’s eyes.

Winston shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “I had few opportunities of indulging in expensive luxuries.”

“I think we had better take our places,” said Maud Barrington, with unveiled contempt.

Winston’s forehead grew a trifle hot, and when he sat down Barrington glanced at him.  “I should explain that we never allow stakes of any kind at Silverdale,” he said.  “Some of the lads sent out to me have been a trifle extravagant in the old country.”

He dealt out the cards, but a trace of bewildered irritation crept into his eyes as the game proceeded, and once or twice he appeared to check an exclamation of astonishment, while at last he glanced reproachfully at Winston.

“My dear sir!  Still, you have ridden a long way,” he said, laying his finger on a king.

Winston laughed to hide his dismay.  “I am sorry, sir.  It was scarcely fair to my partner.  You would, however, have beaten us, any way.”

Barrington gravely gathered up the cards.  “We will,” he said, “have some music.  I do not play poker.”

Then, for the first time, Winston lost his head in his anger.  “Nor do I, sir.”

Barrington only looked at him, but the farmer felt as though somebody had struck him in the face, and, as soon as he conveniently could, bade Miss Barrington good-night.

“But we expected you would stay here a day or two.  Your place is not ready,” she said.