s of the people who worked in the North. More
quick-witted and better informed than they, she had apparently been
able to answer Paul's arguments, and had, therefore, left them in doubt.

This, too, seemed apparent to Paul. The questions asked concerning his
parentage and birthplace synchronised with the advent of this girl.
Never once had he met her, and yet he was constantly hearing of the
converts that she was making. As may be imagined, his heart grew
bitter at the thought of it, even while he grimly determined that he
would win this battle. It is true that the election seemed months
away, but the ground seemed slipping from under his feet, and his
chances, in spite of what his supporters told him, appeared to grow
less each day.

Paul called to mind the time he had met her, in the field close by
Howden Clough. He remembered, too, the wild vow he made. This girl,
the daughter of the author of his disgrace, one who evidently regarded
him with contempt and anger, nevertheless filled his horizon. He knew
that the feelings he bore towards her, feelings which no one but
himself ever dreamed of, seemed to be madness, while the election that
loomed ahead, and on which he had built such great hopes, seemed to
divide them rather than to bring them together. If he were beaten in
the fight, she would look upon him with more contempt than ever.

This feeling caused his speeches to be somewhat bitter in their tones,
and, as a consequence, did not advance his interests--indeed, he felt
as though his own supporters were growing half-hearted, if not
indifferent, and he attributed it all to the persistent work of Mary
Bolitho. Moreover, there were constant rumours about her being engaged
to young Ned Wilson--and Ned Wilson, as he knew, was his enemy.

One evening, it was toward the end of September, Paul was walking in
some fields beyond Howden Clough. He had been reflecting that he had
as yet done nothing towards carrying out the purpose for which he had
come North. He remembered that the work his mother had given him to do
remained undone.

"I promised her I would go to Scotland," he reflected, "and I've not
done it. I've become so wrapped up in this business that I've almost
forgotten mother. She still has that cloud of disgrace hanging over
her head, while I've been thinking of my own advancement and my own
desires. Besides, even if I were to win, I should never be able to
speak to her until this matter is cle