get elected in England without the ladies, especially in the villages,
where the people were obliged to listen respectfully.

"I wonder you can afford to throw away all the influence you get in
the rural districts with soup and blankets," he said; "but this is an
extravagant country in many ways." Dora kept silence, not being sure of
the social prestige bound up with the distribution of soup and blankets,
but Mrs Farquharson set him sharply right.

"I guess we'd rather do without our influence if it came to that," she
said.

Hesketh listened with deference to her account of the rural district
which had as yet produced no Ladies Bountiful, made mental notes
of several points, and placed her privately as a woman of more than
ordinary intelligence. I have always claimed for Hesketh an open mind;
he was filling it now, to its capacity, with care and satisfaction.

The schoolroom was full and waiting when they arrived. Jordanville had
been well billed, and the posters held, in addition to the conspicuous
names of Farquharson and Murchison, that of Mr Alfred Hesketh (of
London, England). There was a "send-off" to give to the retiring member,
there was a critical inspection to make of the new candidate, and
there was Mr Alfred Hesketh, of London, England, and whatever he
might signify. They were big, quiet, expectant fellows, with less
sophistication and polemic than their American counterparts, less stolid
aggressiveness than their parallels in England, if they have parallels
there. They stood, indeed, for the development between the two; they
came of the new country but not of the new light; they were democrats
who had never thrown off the monarch--what harm did he do there
overseas? They had the air of being prosperous, but not prosperous
enough for theories and doctrines. The Liberal vote of South Fox had
yet to be split by Socialism or Labour. Life was a decent rough business
that required all their attention; there was time enough for sleep
but not much for speculation. They sat leaning forward with their
hats dropped between their knees, more with the air of big schoolboys
expecting an entertainment than responsible electors come together to
approve their party's choice. They had the uncomplaining bucolic look,
but they wore it with a difference; the difference, by this time, was
enough to mark them of another nation. Most of them had driven to the
meeting; it was not an adjournment from the public house. Nor did t