ery little for the poor of the town; with
the clergy she had no intimate relations (church-going was for her and
Denzil only a politic conformity); and Polterham was not large enough
to call for the organization of special efforts. But her face invited
the necessitous; in the by-ways she had been appealed to for charity,
with results which became known among people inclined to beg. So it
happened that she was one day led on a benevolent mission into the
poorest part of the town, and had an opportunity of indulging her
helpful instincts.

This was in the afternoon. Between nine and ten that evening, as Denzil
and she sat together in the library (for once they were alone and at
peace), a servant informed her that Mrs. Wade wished to speak for a
moment on urgent business. She went out and found her friend in the
drawing-room.

"Can you give me a few minutes?"

"As long as ever you like! No one is here, for a wonder. Do you wish to
talk privately, or will you come into the study? We were sitting there."

"It's only politics."

"Oh, then come."

Quarrier would rather have been left in quiet over the proof-sheets of
his book--it was already going through the press--but he welcomed the
visitor with customary friendliness.

"Capital speech of Hartington's yesterday."

"Very good answer to Cross. What do you think of John Bright and the
licensed victuallers?"

"Oh," laughed Denzil, "he'll have to talk a good deal before he
persuades them that temperance is money in their pockets! I don't see
the good of that well-intentioned sophistry. But then, you know, I
belong to the habitual drunkards! You have heard that Scatchard Vialls
so represents me to all and sundry?"

"I should proceed against him for slander."

"On the contrary, I think it does me good. All the honest topers will
rally to me, and the sober Liberals will smile indulgently. Sir Wilfred
Lawson would long ago have been stamped out as a bore of the first
magnitude but for his saving humour."

Mrs. Wade presently made known her business; but with a preface which
disturbed the nerves of both her listeners.

"The enemy have a graver charge against you. I happened, an hour ago,
to catch a most alarming rumour. Mr. Quarrier, your wife will be your
ruin!"

Notwithstanding the tone of burlesque, Lilian turned pale, and Quarrier
stood frowning. Mrs. Wade examined them both, her bright eyes glancing
quickly from one face to the other and back again. She did no