rude--ay, and
without their feeling that they were snubbed--amused me. I rarely go to
these political meetings, but I was so interested that I wanted to hear
him, and I went. Of course there was a great crowd, but I took very
little notice of it; I was too intent upon studying Mr. Radford
Leicester's face. I have heard him spoken of as a keen politician, but I
never saw a man look so utterly bored. Especially was this so at the
beginning of the meeting; a little later a smile of amused contempt came
upon his face as he listened to eulogiums on "our historic party." When
he got up to speak, he looked disgusted at the way the people cheered,
and although the former part of his speech was clever, there was nothing
striking about it. He did not seem to think the audience worth an
effort. Presently, however, one of the cleverest men in the town--he
belonged to the other side--got up and heckled him. Then the fun began.
He seemed to realise that he was on his mettle, and the way he
pulverised our "local clever man" will be the talk of the town for a
week of Sundays. Never before did I realise the influence of a strong,
clever man. He simply played with the audience and swayed the people at
will.

"'When we got home after the meeting he was again very silent for some
time; then the vicar of our parish called, and again the fun commenced.
This time politics were mingled with religion, and although such
discussions are generally very dull, I would not have missed it for
anything. To see the Rev. William Dunstable writhe and wriggle and try
to explain and qualify was simply splendid. I think I see his method.
Mr. Dunstable would make one of his very orthodox assertions, with which
Mr. Leicester would seem to agree. After this he would lead the vicar on
by a series of the most innocent questions, but which presently led him
to an awful pit from which he could not get out. What Mr. Leicester
believes himself I have no idea, although I am told he has very queer
opinions; but that he gave Mr. Dunstable a very bad time there can be no
question. Indeed, he is one of the cleverest men I ever met.

"'And yet I don't think I like him. He doesn't seem sincere, and you
always have the feeling that he's mocking you. Besides, he seems to have
no faith in anything. He coolly pours scorn upon our most cherished
traditions, and yet you can't fasten upon a single saying which commits
him. In a sense, he's a sort of modern Byron, and yet you can