ith much nervousness, uncertain whether she might do such a
thing, said to her friend's father:

"I think, Mr. Mumbray, you don't know my uncle, Mr. Eustace Glazzard?"

"Ha! very glad to meet you, Mr. Glazzard. My love," he turned to the
Mayoress, "let me present to you Mr. Eustace Glazzard--Mr. William's
brother."

The Mayoress laid her fan on her bosom, and inclined graciously. She
was a portly and high-coloured woman, with hanging nether lip. Glazzard
conversed with her and her husband in a tone of amiable liveliness.

"Remarkable," he said, smiling to the Mayoress, "how patiently women in
general support this ancient yoke of tyranny!"

Mrs. Mumbray looked at him with condescending eyes, in doubt as to his
real meaning. Her husband, ponderously literal, answered in his
head-voice:

"I fail to recognize the grievance.--How do you do, Mr. Lovett?--I am
conscious of no tyranny."

"But that is just what Mr. Glazzard meant, papa, put in Serena, with
scarcely disguised contempt.

"Ha! oh! To be sure--to be sure! Quite so, Mr. Glazzard.--A very
amoosing lecture, all the same. Not of course to be taken
seriously.--Good evening, Mr. Glazzard--good evening!"

The Mayoress again inclined. Serena gave her acquaintance an enigmatic
look, murmured a leave-taking, and, with an affectionate nod to Ivy,
passed on. Glazzard drew near to his niece.

"Your friend is not a disciple of Mrs. Wade?"

"Oh dear no, uncle!"

"Not just a little bit?" he smiled, encouragingly.

"Perhaps she would agree with what Mr. Quarrier said about girls having
a right to better instruction."

"I see. Don't wait with me if there's any one you would like to speak
to."

Ivy shook her head. She had a troubled expression, as if the experience
of the evening had agitated her.

Close at hand, a circle of men had formed about Mr. Chown, who was
haranguing on the Woman question. What he wanted was to emancipate the
female mind from the yoke of superstition and of priestcraft. Time
enough to talk about giving women votes when they were no longer the
slaves of an obstructive religion. There were good things in the
lecture, but, on the whole, it was flabby--flabby. A man who would
discourse on this topic must be courageous; he must dare to shock and
give offence. Now, if _he_ had been lecturing----

Glazzard beckoned to his niece, and led her out of ear-shot of these
utterances. In a minute or two they were joined by the chairman, who
had already