to many of the
Leith farmers whom he had known from boyhood, thanks to his custom of
roaming the hills; they were for the most part honest men whose
occupation in life was the first thought, and they were content to leave
politics to Mr. Braden--that being his profession. To the most
intelligent of these Mr. Crewe's garden-party was merely the wanton whim
of a millionaire. It was an open secret to them that Job Braden for
reasons of his own had chosen Mr. Crewe to represent them, and they were
mildly amused at the efforts of Mrs. Pomfret and her assistants to secure
votes which were as certain as the sun's rising on the morrow.

It was some time before Austen came upon the object of his search--though
scarce admitting to himself that it had an object. In greeting him, after
inquiring about his railroad case, Mr. Crewe had indicated with a wave of
his hand the general direction of the refreshments; but it was not until
Austen had tried in all other quarters that he made his way towards the
porch where the lemonade and cake and sandwiches were. It was, after all,
the most popular place, though to his mind the refreshments had little to
do with its popularity. From the outskirts of the crowd he perceived
Victoria presiding over the punchbowl that held the lemonade. He liked to
think of her as Victoria; the name had no familiarity for him, but seemed
rather to enhance the unattainable quality of her.

Surrounding Victoria were several clean-looking, freckled, and tanned
young men of undergraduate age wearing straw hats with coloured ribbons,
who showed every eagerness to obey and even anticipate the orders she did
not hesitate to give them. Her eye seemed continually on the alert for
those of Mr. Crewe's guests who were too bashful to come forward, and
discerning them she would send one of her lieutenants forward with
supplies. Sometimes she would go herself to the older people; and once,
perceiving a tired woman holding a baby (so many brought babies, being
unable to leave them), Victoria impulsively left her post and seized the
woman by the arm.

"Do come and sit down," she cried; "there's a chair beside me. And oh,
what a nice baby! Won't you let me hold him?"

"Why, yes, ma'am," said the woman, looking up at Victoria with grateful,
patient eyes, and then with awe at what seemed to her the priceless
embroidery on Victoria's waist, "won't he spoil your dress?"

"Bless him, no," said Victoria, poking her finger into a