This seemed enough, and so Doctor Tillman, an old and wise
friend, urged. But as the time of Tom's release approached and his wife
made preparations for receiving him in a cottage just on the edge of Sir
Winterton's estate, it became odious to think of the black looks and
scowls which would embitter every ride in that direction. "I want to
forget the whole thing, to get rid of it, to blot it all out," said Sir
Winterton fretfully. Prison had induced reason in Tom Sinnett; he made
his submission and accepted the liberal help which carried him and his
wife, his daughter and her husband, to a new life across the seas. Then
Sir Winterton had peace in his heart and abroad; he had behaved most
handsomely, and there were no scowling faces to remind him of the hateful
episode. He had met the gossip boldly and defiantly; it had died away and
had seemed utterly forgotten and extinct; the low grumbles and not very
seemly jokes which still lingered among the men at the various works in
Henstead, where Tom had been a _persona grata_, never reached the ears of
the great folk at Moors End; it is perhaps only at election times that
such things become audible in such quarters.
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