?" he asked.

"Of course," said Maud Barrington. "How could it be? And you have
been very patient under our suspicions. Now, if you still value the
good-will you once asked for, it is yours absolutely."

"But you may still hear unpleasant stories about me," said Winston,
with a note the girl had not heard before in his voice.

"I should not believe them," she said.

"Still," persisted Winston, "if the tales were true?"

Maud Barrington did nothing by halves. "Then I should remember that
there is always so much we do not know which would put a different
color on any story, and I believe they could never be true again."

Winston checked a little gasp of wonder and delight, and Maud
Barrington looked away across the prairie. She was not usually
impulsive and seldom lightly bestowed gifts that were worth the having,
and the man knew that the faith in him she had confessed to was the
result of a conviction that would last until he himself shattered it.
Then, in the midst of his elation, he shivered again and drew the lash
across the near horse's back. The wonder and delight he felt had
suddenly gone.

"Few would venture to predict as much. Now and then I feel that our
deeds are scarcely contrived by our own will, and one could fancy our
parts had been thrust upon us in a grim joke," he said. "For instance,
isn't it strange that I should have a share in the rousing of
Silverdale to a sense of its responsibilities? Lord, what I could make
of it, if fate had but given me a fair opportunity!"

He spoke almost fiercely, but the words did not displease the girl.
The forceful ring in his voice set something thrilling within her, and
she knew by this time that his assertions seldom went beyond the fact.

"But you will have the opportunity, and we need you here," she said.

"No," said Winston slowly. "I am afraid not. Still, I will finish the
work I see in front of me. That at least--one cannot hope for the
unattainable."

Maud Barrington was sensible of a sudden chill. "Still, if one has
strength and patience, is anything quite unattainable?"

Winston looked out across the prairie, and for a moment the demons of
pride and ambition rioted within him. He knew there were in him the
qualities that compel success, and the temptation to stretch out a
daring hand and take all he longed for grew almost overmastering.
Still, he also knew how strong the innate prejudices of caste and
tradition are in most women of