beaten again in the defence of the integrity of the
Empire. And though they had the difficult and delicate task of
persuading a large industrial constituency that an industrial
representative would not further industrial interests, and that they
alone were actuated by unselfish love for the people, yet they had made
enormous progress in a very brief period, and publicans were jubilant
and bars sloppy.

The aspect of the affair that did not quite please the Society for the
Prosecution of Felons was that the polling had been fixed for the day
after its annual dinner instead of the day before. Powerful efforts had
been made `in the proper quarter' to get the date conveniently arranged,
but without success; after all, the seat of authority was Hanbridge and
not Bursley. Hanbridge, sadly failing to appreciate the importance of
Bursley's Felonry, had suggested that the feast might be moved a couple
of days. The Felonry refused. If its dinner clashed with the supreme
night of the campaign, so much the worse for the campaign! Moreover,
the excitement of the campaign would at any rate give zest to the
dinner.

Ere he reached Duck Bank, the vivacity of the town, loosed after the
day's labour to an evening's orgy of oratory and horseplay and beer, had
communicated itself to Edwin. He was most distinctly aware of pleasure
in the sight of the Tory candidate driving past, at a pace to overtake
steam-cars, in a coach-and-four, with amateur postilions and an
orchestra of horns. The spectacle, and the speed of it, somehow
thrilled him, and for an instant made him want to vote Tory. A
procession of illuminated carts, bearing white potters apparently
engaged in the handicraft which the Labour candidate had practised in
humbler days, also pleased him, but pleased him less. As he passed up
Duck Bank the Labour candidate himself was raising loud enthusiastic
cheers from a railway lorry in Duck Square, and Edwin's spirits went
even higher, and he elbowed through the laughing, joking throng with
fraternal good-humour, feeling that an election was in itself a grand
thing, apart from its result, and apart from the profit which it brought
to steam-printers.

In the porch of the Town Hall, a man turned from an eagerly-smiling
group of hungry Felons and, straightening his face, asked with quiet
concern, "How's your father?" Edwin shook his head. "Pretty bad," he
answered. "Is he?" murmured the other sadly. And Edwin suddenly saw