im by the Liberal
Committee to contest old Dodgson's seat. And during the past few weeks
the exhilaration and interest of the general position--considering all
things--had been very great. Not only was he on the point of ousting the
Maxwell candidate from a seat which he had held securely for
years--Wharton was perfectly well aware by now that he was trespassing
on Aldous Raeburn's preserves in ways far more important, and infinitely
more irritating! He and Raeburn had not met often at Mellor during these
weeks of fight. Each had been too busy. But whenever they had come
across each other Wharton had clearly perceived that his presence in the
house, his growing intimacy with Marcella Boyce, the free-masonry of
opinion between them, the interest she took in his contest, the village
friendships they had in common, were all intensely galling to Aldous
Raeburn.

The course of events, indeed, had lately produced in Wharton a certain
excitement--recklessness even. He had come down into these parts to
court "the joy of eventful living"--politically and personally. But the
situation had proved to be actually far more poignant and personal than
he had expected. This proud, crude, handsome girl--to her certainly it
was largely due that the days had flown as they had. He was perfectly,
one might almost say gleefully, aware that at the present moment it was
he and not Aldous Raeburn who was intellectually her master. His mind
flew back at first with amusement, then with a thrill of something else,
over their talks and quarrels. He smiled gaily as he recalled her fits
of anger with him, her remonstrances, appeals--and then her awkward
inevitable submissions when he had crushed her with sarcasm or with
facts. Ah! she would go to this ball to-night; Aldous Raeburn would
parade her as his possession; but she would go with thoughts, ambitions,
ideals, which, as they developed, would make her more and more difficult
for a Raeburn to deal with. And in those thoughts and ambitions the man
who had been her tormentor, teacher, and companion during six rushing
weeks knew well that he already counted for much. He had cherished in
her all those "divine discontents" which were already there when he
first knew her; taught her to formulate them, given her better reasons
for them; so that by now she was a person with a far more defined and
stormy will than she had been to begin with. Wharton did not
particularly know why he should exult; but he did