Carrington, with face averted, looked
from the window.
"I am going to stay here as long as you need me," he presently
said. "She--Miss Malroy asked me to, and then I am going back to
the river where I belong."
Norton turned on him quickly.
"You don't mean you've abandoned the notion of turning planter?"
he demanded in surprise.
"Well, yes. What's the use of my trying my hand at a business I
don't know the first thing about?"
"I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to decide finally on that
point," urged Norton.
"It has decided itself," said Carrington quietly.
But Norton was conscious of a subtle change in their relation.
Carrington seemed a shade less frank than had been habitual with
him; all at once he had removed his private affairs from the
field of discussion. Afterward, when Norton considered the
matter, he wondered if it were not that the Kentuckian felt
himself superfluous in this new situation that had grown up.
Charley Norton's features recovered their accustomed hue, but he
did not go near Belle Plain; with resolute fortitude he confined
himself to his own acres. He was tolerably familiar with certain
engaging little peculiarities of Mr. Ware's; he knew, for
instance, that the latter was a gentleman of excessively regular
habits; once each fortnight, making an excuse of business, he
spent a day in Memphis, neither more nor less. Norton told
himself with satisfaction that Tom was destined to return to the
surprise of his life from the next of these trips.
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