For the Allinson Honor. Bindloss Harold
curious that you and I, whose opinions don't count for much, should venture to differ with the rest."
Hilda gave him a grateful glance.
"But we are the ones who see most clearly. I have always felt that you are to be trusted."
He made her a humorous bow.
"I must try to deserve such confidence."
"Don't be foolish; this is serious. They mean well, but they're all wrong about Andrew. Of course, I make fun of him now and then, but I'm very fond of him. It's a mistake to think he's stupid; and Leonard's responsible for it."
"I'll admit that something of the kind has occurred to me," Wannop said.
Hilda hesitated.
"Well," she said, "I have never had much confidence in Leonard, though the others think him perfect. I've an idea that all along he has been gently pushing Andrew aside, making him look silly, and undermining the influence he ought to have. Now he's sending him to Canada – I very much wonder why? He has some reason."
Wannop started.
"My dear, your suspicions go a trifle farther than mine. You may be right, though it's not nice to think so. But where does all this lead?"
"Andrew may need supporters who don't altogether believe in the immaculate Leonard some day. I think, if needful, he could count on us."
"And on nobody else?"
"Not until the others understood; and it would be hard to make them see."
"Uncommonly hard," Wannop admitted. "Well, Hilda, you and I will be allies. We can conspire together unsuspected, because we are the two who are not supposed to count – you because you're too young and charming; I because I haven't the fine moral fastidiousness and air of distinction that marks the Allinsons. But I'll let you into a secret – Gertrude's wavering in her ideas about Andrew: I'm perverting her."
"There's something I'd better tell you. I met Mrs. Olcott half an hour ago and I stopped and spoke. I like her – there isn't the least reason why I shouldn't – and I'm sorry for her. I know she feels being left alone, and we're going to be friends. Now if the others should try to make things unpleasant?"
"I imagine Robert means mischief."
"I was afraid of it," said Hilda. "Of course, he's as silly and unable to see things properly as an owl in daylight, but solemn stupid people often pass for being wise, and he might do harm. If he tries, can you stop him? I know Andrew would like it."
Wannop made a sign of rather dubious assent.
"As I'm unromantically stout, getting elderly, and devoid of personal charm, I might perhaps venture to interfere in this matter. After all, there's a sense in which Andrew is undoubtedly to blame. Why do you let him go to The Firs so often?"
"If I should give him a hint that people are talking, it would only make him angry. You know he really is slow at understanding now and then."
They strolled back to the party, which soon afterward broke up, for although Hilda begged them to wait for dinner nobody seemed anxious to meet Andrew. When they had gone, Hilda turned to Leonard with a smile.
"Had an interesting talk?" she asked. "You all looked so serious that I was afraid to join you."
Leonard glanced at her sharply.
"As you grow older you'll find that there are matters which can't be treated humorously."
"It's possible," Hilda agreed. "Still, that remark is too much in Robert's style. Improving conversation is apt to get tiresome."
She moved away and Leonard watched her with thoughtful eyes. He believed he enjoyed her sisters' confidence, but he was doubtful of Hilda.
Three weeks later Andrew sailed, and soon after he had done so Wannop called one afternoon at The Firs, where he was received by Mrs. Olcott in the garden. He thought she looked harassed, but he had expected this.
"I believe you have met my wife," he began, taking the canvas chair she indicated.
"Yes," said Mrs. Olcott. "She called on me and, if I remember right, stayed five minutes."
This was not encouraging.
"You know my sister-in-law, Hilda, better?" Wannop ventured.
Mrs. Olcott's expression softened.
"That is true; I have reason to be grateful to her."
"Hilda is a very nice girl. I verily believe that we are fond of each other, and as I am more than double her age, she now and then favors me with her confidence. In fact, she suggested that I might be able to help you out of a difficulty."
His hostess studied him carefully. He was burly and looked hot after his walk, but he had a reassuring smile and his red face seemed to indicate good-nature. She thought that he could be trusted.
"It's about the house," she said. "I don't know where else to go and it looks as if I might be turned out."
That this should distress her hinted at some degree of poverty, and Wannop felt compassionate. She was young and inexperienced, and had been coldly treated by her neighbors.
"How is that?" he asked.
After a moment of irresolution Mrs. Olcott decided to tell him.
"Mr. Allinson arranged about the house. Perhaps I shouldn't have allowed this, but when he was wounded in the war my husband carried him out of reach of the Boer fire."
"Ah! Andrew ought to have made that clear. But won't you go on with the explanation?"
"Mr. Allinson told me that no papers were needed, I was to pay the rent to a man called Judson. He came here and said that there had been some mistake. The rent was ten pounds more and I must share the cost of the alterations, while the field adjoining, which must go with The Firs, would be another extra. When I declared I couldn't pay all this he said I was undoubtedly liable, but he could find another tenant who would take the house off my hands."
"I see a clerical finger in this pie," said Wannop half aloud, and smiled at his hostess. "I beg your pardon. I suppose you didn't know that this is Andrew Allinson's house."
Mrs. Olcott started and colored.
"I did not know. But if it is, I can't understand why his agent – "
"Somebody is back of him. Now we had better be candid. I venture to believe you can confide in me."
"What proof can I have of that? You are a connection of the Allinsons, who seem bent on persecuting me. Have they sent you here?"
"Hilda did," Wannop replied with quiet good-humor. "Perhaps I had better say that on some points she and I are not quite in accord with the rest of the family. I suppose Andrew promised your husband to look after you until his return?"
Mrs. Olcott agreed, for her suspicions about his errand had vanished. Wannop mused for a few moments.
"I think you should stay here and fight it out until he comes back," he said. "After all, your neighbors are honest as far as they see, and you'll find them ready to make amends."
Mrs. Olcott's eyes sparkled, but she hesitated.
"I'm afraid I can't hold out. They have attacked me where I'm weakest."
"Will you leave the matter of the house to me? It can be put right."
"Why are you willing to take the trouble?"
Wannop laughed.
"For one thing, I enjoy putting a spoke in the parson's wheel; for another, Andrew made you a promise, and the Allinsons like to keep their word."
He got up and held out his hand.
"I'll have a talk with Mr. Judson. Show your courage and hold your ground. You'll be glad you did so by and by."
The next morning Wannop called at the agent's office in a neighboring town. He was shown into a dingy room, where an elderly man with spectacles received him with deference.
"I've been looking into accounts, Judson," Wannop began abruptly. "After deducting your commission and the cost of the