I should be
prouder of that than of anything. I suppose I shall be
here till Wednesday morning. If you would say but one kind
word to me, I think that it would help me on the great
day.

I am, and ever shall be,
Your most affectionate admirer,

ONTARIO MOGGS.

[Illustration: "Out of a full heart they say the mouth speaks,
and out of a very full heart I am speaking to you with my pen."]

Polly received this on the Monday, the day of the nomination, and
though she did answer it at once, Ontario did not get her reply till
the contest was over, and that great day had done its best and its
worst for him. But Polly's letter shall be given here. To a well-bred
young lady, living in good society, the mixture of politics and
love which had filled Ontario's epistle might perhaps have been
unacceptable. But Polly thought that the letter was a good letter;
and was proud of being so noticed by a young man who was standing for
Parliament. She sympathised with his enthusiasm; and thought that
she should like to be taught by him that Labour was the Salt of the
Earth,--if only he were not so awkward and long, and if his hands
were habitually a little cleaner. She could not, however, take
upon herself to give him any hope in that direction, and therefore
confined her answer to the Parliamentary prospects of the hour.

DEAR MR. MOGGS,--[she wrote]--I was very much pleased
when I heard that you were going to stand for a member of
Parliament, and I wish with all my heart that you may be
successful. I shall think it a very great honour indeed
to know a member of Parliament, as I have known you for
nearly all my life. I am sure you will do a great deal of
good, and prevent the people from being wicked. As for
ladies voting, I don't think I should like that myself,
though if I had twenty votes I would give them to
you,--because I have known you so long.

Father and mother send their respects, and hope you will
be successful.

Yours truly,

MARYANNE NEEFIT.

Alexandra Cottage, Monday.

When Moggs received this letter he was, not unnaturally, in a state
of great agitation in reference to the contest through which he had
just passed; but still he thought very much of it, and put it in his
breast, where it would lie near his heart. Ah, if only one word of
warmth had been allowed to escape from the writer, how happy could he
have been. "Yes," he said scornful