back into the room with a conscious air, and said
something in a low voice to Dora, who flushed and frowned a little,
and asked to be excused. As she left the room a glance of intelligence
passed between her and her mother. While Miss Milburn was generally
thought to be "most like" her father both in appearance and disposition,
there were points upon which she could count on an excellent
understanding with her other parent.

"Oh, Lorne," she said, having carefully closed the drawing-room door,
"what in the world have you come here for? Today of all days! Did
anybody see you?"

The young man, standing tall and broad-shouldered before the
mantelpiece, had yet a look of expecting reproach.

"I don't know," he said humbly.

"I don't think Father would like it," Dora told him, "if he knew you
were here. Why, we're having an early breakfast on purpose to let
him get out and work for Winter. I never saw him so excited over an
election. To think of your coming today!"

He made a step toward her. "I came because it is today," he said. "Only
for a minute, dear. It's a great day for me, you know--whether we win or
lose. I wanted you to be in it. I wanted you to wish me good luck."

"But you know I always do," she objected.

"Yes, I know. But a fellow likes to hear it, Dora--on the day, you know.
And I've seen so little of you lately."

She looked at him measuringly. "You're looking awfully thin," she
exclaimed, with sudden compunction. "I wish you had never gone into this
horrid campaign. I wish they had nominated somebody else."

Lorne smiled half-bitterly. "I shouldn't wonder if a few other people
wished the same thing," he said. "But I'm afraid they'll have to make
the best of it now."

Dora had not sanctioned his visit by sitting down; and as he came nearer
to her she drew a step away, moving by instinct from the capture of the
lover. But he had made little of that, and almost as he spoke was at her
side. She had to yield her hands to him.

"Well, you'll win it for them if anybody could," she assured him.

"Say 'win it for us,' dear."

She shook her head. "I'm not a Liberal--yet," she said, laughing.

"It's only a question of time."

"I'll never be converted to Grit politics."

"No, but you'll be converted to me," he told her, and drew her nearer.
"I'm going now, Dora. I dare say I shouldn't have come. Every minute
counts today. Good-bye."

She could not withhold her face from his asking lips, and he had