was out of
sight. He would fain have put his arm round her, have consoled and
supported her. But she would not let him.

"Please understand," she said in a sort of gasp, as she drew herself
away, "that I do _not_ believe Hurd is guilty--that I shall do my very
utmost to defend him. He is to me the victim of unjust, abominable laws!
If _you_ will not help me to protect him--then I must look to some one
else."

Aldous felt a sudden stab of suspicion--presentiment.

"Of course he will be well defended; he will have every chance; that you
may be sure of," he said slowly.

Marcella controlled herself, and they walked on. As they entered the
drive of Mellor, Aldous thought passionately of those divine moments in
his sitting-room, hardly yet nine hours old. And now--_now_!--she walked
beside him as an enemy.

The sound of a step on the gravel in front of them made them look up.
Past, present, and future met in the girl's bewildered and stormy sense
as she recognised Wharton.

CHAPTER X.

The first sitting of the Birmingham Labour Congress was just over, and
the streets about the hall in which it had been held were beginning to
fill with the issuing delegates. Rain was pouring down and umbrellas
were plentiful.

Harry Wharton, accompanied by a group of men, left the main entrance of
the hall,--releasing himself with difficulty from the friendly crowd
about the doors--and crossed the street to his hotel.

"Well, I'm glad you think I did decently," he said, as they mounted the
hotel stairs. "What a beastly day, and how stuffy that hall was! Come in
and have something to drink."

He threw open the door of his sitting-room as he spoke. The four men
with him followed him in.

"I must go back to the hall to see two or three men before everybody
disperses," said the one in front. "No refreshment for me, thank you,
Mr. Wharton. But I want to ask a question--what arrangements have you
made for the reporting of your speech?"

The man who spoke was thin and dark, with a modest kindly eye. He wore a
black frock coat, and had the air of a minister.

"Oh, thank you, Bennett, it's all right. The _Post_, the _Chronicle_,
and the _Northern Guardian_ will have full copies. I sent them off
before the meeting. And my own paper, of course. As to the rest they may
report it as they like. I don't care."

"They'll all have it," said another man, bluntly. "It's the best speech
you've ever made--the best president's speech we'