ll them you are very tired
after last night. As soon as ever the fight is done, we'll be off
somewhere or other for a few weeks. Don't get up till midday; anything
interesting you shall know at once."

At breakfast Denzil received a note from Mrs. Wade, sent by hand. "Do
let me know how Lilian is. The messenger will wait for a reply." He
wrote an answer of warm friendliness, signing it, "Ever sincerely
yours." Mrs. Wade had impressed him with her devotion; he thought of
her with gratitude and limitless confidence.

"If it had been Molly, instead," he said to himself; "I can't be at all
sure how she would have behaved. Religion and the proprieties might
have been too much for her good nature; yes, they _would_ have been.
After all, these emancipated women are the most trustworthy, and Mrs.
Wade is the best example I have yet known."

When Mrs. Liversedge welcomed her sister-in-law at luncheon, she was
stricken with alarm.

"My dear girl, you look like a ghost! This won't do," she added, in a
whisper, presently. "You _must_ keep quiet!"

But the Liversedges' house was no place for quietness. Two or three
vigorous partisans put in an appearance at the meal, and talked with
noisy exhilaration. Tobias himself had yielded to the spirit of the
hour; he told merry stories of incidents that had come under his notice
that morning. One of these concerned a well-known publican, a stalwart
figure on the Tory side.

"I am assured that three voters have been drinking steadily for the
last week at his expense. He calculates that delirium tremens will have
set in, in each case, by the day after to-morrow."

"Who are these men?" asked Lilian, eagerly. "Why can't we save them in
time?"

"Oh, the thing is too artfully arranged. They are old topers; no
possibility of interfering."

"I can't see"----

"Lilian," interposed Mrs. Liversedge, "what was the material of that
wonderful dress Mrs. Kay wore last night?"

"I don't know, Mary; I didn't notice it.--But surely if it is _known_
that these men are"----

It was a half-holiday for the Liversedge boys, and they were
anticipating the election with all the fervour of British youth. That
morning there had been a splendid fight at the Grammar School; they
described it with great vigour and amplitude, waxing Homeric in their
zeal. Dickinson junior had told Tom Harte that Gladstone was a
"blackguard"; whereupon Tom smote him between the eyes, so that the
vile calumniator measured