fixing his gaze on Queenie.
"A-carrying on with strangers at my very gates, as you might say, and in
public places in a town of which I'm chief magistrate! What sort o'
return do you call this, miss, I should like to know, for all that I've
done for you? me that's lodged and boarded and clothed you, ever
since----"

"What have I done for you in return?" demanded Queenie with a flash of
spirit. "Saved you the wages of a couple of servants for all these
years! But this is the end, if you're going to throw that in my
teeth----"

Brent drew Queenie to her feet and turned her away from Simon. He gave
the big man a look over his shoulder.

"That's it, my friend!" he said. "That's the right term--the end! Find
somebody else to do your household drudgery--this young lady's done her
last stroke for you. And now don't begin to bluster," he added, as
Simon, purpling with wrath, shook his fist. "We'll just leave you to
yourself."

He led Queenie away down a side-path, and once within its shelter, put a
finger under her chin, and lifting her face, looked steadily at her.

"Look here, girlie," he said. "You heard what I whispered to you just
now? 'It's for good!' Didn't I say that? Well, is it?"

Queenie managed to get her eyes to turn on him at last.

"Do you mean it?" she murmured.

"I just do!" answered Brent fervently. "Say the word!"

"Yes, then!" whispered Queenie.

She looked at him wonderingly when he had bent and kissed her.

"You're an extraordinary man!" she said. "Whatever am I going to
do--now? Homeless!"

"Not much!" exclaimed Brent. "You come along with me, Queenie. I'm a
good hand at thinking fast. I'll put you up, warm and comfortable, at
Mother Appleyard's; and as quick as the thing can be done we'll be
married. Got that into your little head? Come on, then!"

That night Brent told Tansley of what had happened and what he was going
to do. Tansley listened, laughed, and shook his head.

"All right, my lad!" he said. "I've no doubt you and Queenie'll suit
each other excellently. But you've settled your chances of winning that
election, Brent! Simon Crood'll bring up every bit of his heavy
artillery against you, now--and will smash you!"

CHAPTER XVII

IMPREGNABLE

Brent received this plain-spoken declaration with a curious tightening
of lips and setting of jaw which Tansley, during their brief
acquaintance, had come to know well enough. They were accompanied by a
fixed stare--the solici