eed to come here in silence, just for a moment, as an
indication of our sympathy and--respect."

I was unable to speak, which was not altogether surprising. There was
something overwhelming about the dumb kindness of it all,--three
thousand excited folk holding themselves in for fear of disturbing a
sick child,--and I merely shook Stridge's hand again.

However, I found my voice at last.

"Mr Stridge," I said, "there is only one thing I will say in response to
your kindness, but I think it is the one thing most calculated to reward
you all for it. To-night my little girl's illness took a favourable
turn. She is now fast asleep, and practically out of danger."

I saw a great ripple pass over the crowd, like a breeze over a
cornfield, as the news sped from mouth to mouth. Both Stridge's great
hands were on my shoulders.

"Good lad!" he said. "Good lad!"

He patted my shoulders again, and then, as if struck by a sudden idea,
he turned and whispered a direction to his lieutenants. I overheard the
words "Market Square," and "A good half mile away." Once more the wave
passed over the cornfield, and without a sound the great concourse
turned to the left and streamed away over the trampled snow, leaving me
standing bareheaded on the steps of the French window, almost directly
below the spot where the unconscious little object of all this
consideration lay fast asleep.

I returned to the group on the balcony. They had heard most of the
conversation, and Kitty was unaffectedly dabbing her eyes.

"Well, let us get in out of the cold," I said, suddenly cheerful and
brisk. "I want my supper."

"Wait a moment," said Robin, "I don't think everything is quite over
yet. What is that? Listen!"

From the direction of the Market Square came the shouts of a great
multitude. Cheer upon cheer floated up to the starry heavens. The roars
that had greeted the declaration of the poll were nothing to these.
There was a united ring about them that had been lacking in the others.
It was like one whole-hearted many-headed giant letting off steam.

"A-a-h!" said Kitty.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

IN WHICH ALL'S RIGHT WITH THE WORLD.

After that we became suddenly conscious of our bodily wants, and
clamoured for supper.

It was long after midnight, and most of the hotel servants had gone to
bed. But one waiter of political leanings, who had been an enthusiastic
witness of the proceedings in the Close, stood by us nobly. He laid a
t