not--and personally
Mahony did not believe it would; for Ocock's buisness throve like the
green bay-tree, and Miss Tilly had been promised a fine two-storeyed
house, with bow-windows and a garden, and a carriage-drive up to the
door. Again, the admission might be accepted in peace just now, and
later on used as a weapon against him. In his, Mahony's, eyes, by far
the wisest course would be, to let the grass grow over the whole affair.

And here he rose, abruptly terminating the interview. "You and I, too,
sir, if you please, will forget what has passed between us this
morning, and never come back on it. How is Tom getting on in the
drapery business? Does he like his billet?"

But none the less as he ushered his visitor out, he felt that there was
a certain finality about the action. It was--as far as his private
feelings were concerned--the old man's moral exit from the scene.

On the doorstep Ocock hoped that nothing that had been said would reach
"your dear little lady." "To 'Enry, too, doc., if you'll be so good,
mum's the word! 'Enry 'ud never forgive me, nay, or you eether, if it
got to 'is 'ears I'd bin an' let the cat outer the bag. An' 'e's got a
bit of a down on you as it is, for it 'avin' bin your place I met the
future Mrs. O. at."

"My good man!" broke from Mahony--and in this address, which would
previously never have crossed his lips, all his sensations of the past
hour were summed up. "Has your son Henry the"--he checked himself;
"does he suppose I--I or my wife--had anything to do with it?"

He turned back to the surgery hot with annoyance. This, too! Not enough
that he must be put out of countenance by indiscreet babbling; he must
also get drawn into family squabbles, even be held responsible for
them: he who, brooking no interference in his own life, demanded only
that those about him should be as intolerant as he.

It all came from Polly's indiscriminate hospitality. His house was
never his own. And now they had the prospect of John and his electoral
campaign before them. And John's chances of success, and John's stump
oratory, and the backstair-work other people were expected to do for
him would form the main theme of conversation for many a day to come.

Mrs. Glendinning confirmed old Ocock's words.

She came to talk over the engagement with Polly, and sitting in the
parlour cried a little, and was sorry. But then "poor little Agnes"
cried so easily nowadays. Richard said her nerves had bee