in the corner. He's looking over here."

"He has a perfect right to look where he chooses," said Victoria. She
wondered whether he would come over and sit next to her if she turned
around, and decided instantly that he wouldn't. Presently, when she
thought Hastings was off his guard, she did turn, to meet, as she
expected, Austen's glance fixed upon her. Their greeting was the signal
of two people with a mutual understanding. He did not rise, and although
she acknowledged to herself a feeling of disappointment, she gave him
credit for a nice comprehension of the situation. Beside him was his
friend Tom Gaylord, who presented to her a very puzzled face. And then,
if there had been a band, it would have been time to play "See, the
Conquering Hero Comes!"

Why wasn't there a band? No such mistake, Mr. Tooting vowed, should be
made at the next rally.

It was Mrs. Pomfret who led the applause from her box as the candidate
walked modestly up the side aisle and presently appeared, alone, on the
stage. The flutter of excitement was renewed, and this time it might
almost be called a flutter of apprehension. But we who have heard Mr.
Crewe speak are in no alarm for our candidate. He takes a glass of iced
water; he arranges, with the utmost sangfroid, his notes on the desk
and adjusts the reading light. Then he steps forward and surveys the
scattered groups.

"Ladies--" a titter ran through the audience,--a titter which started
somewhere in the near neighbourhood of Mr. Hastings Weare--and rose
instantly to several hysterical peals of feminine laughter. Mrs.
Pomfret, outraged, sweeps the frivolous offenders with her lorgnette;
Mr. Crewe, with his arm resting, on the reading-desk, merely raises the
palm of his hand to a perpendicular reproof,--"and gentlemen." At this
point the audience is thoroughly cowed. "Ladies and gentlemen and fellow
citizens. I thank you for the honour you have done me in coming here to
listen to the opening speech of my campaign to-night. It is a campaign
for decency and good government, and I know that the common people of
the State--of whom I have the honour to be one--demand these things.
I cannot say as much for the so-called prominent citizens," said Mr.
Crewe, glancing about him; "not one of your prominent citizens in Ripton
would venture to offend the powers that be by consenting to introduce me
to-night, or dared come into this theatre and take seats within thirty
feet of this platform." Here M