Joanna smiled, as she disposed of her last daffodil. Martha's politics were so essentially feminine. As long as a political party contents itself with revolutionizing States and annexing continents and disestablishing Churches, and other trifling pastimes such as these, no right-minded woman troubles her head about it; these things amuse it and do not hurt her. But when the political party takes advantage of this patience and forbearance on her part, and goes to the length of actually contesting the seat in Parliament of some particular man, the sleeping tigress wakes up and shows all the claws wherewith provident Nature has endowed her. Which conduct is, after all, only natural; and the offending faction has no one but itself to blame.
But it is the same with parties as with individuals; if one gives them an inch they take an ell.
At last the day of the Chayford election dawned; and—as is the way of election days—it was so long, that it seemed as if the sun had stood still to watch the battle, as it did in the time of Joshua. But it came to an end at last; and the little party at the Cottage sat up till midnight awaiting Paul and the result. At first everybody said it would be a walk-over; but anybody who knows anything about electioneering will be aware that, however certain a seat may be, and however enormous the majority last time, fears come with fighting, whilst agonizing doubts foreshadow the declaration of the poll.
Paul's little home-circle felt very anxious; and the more they doubted the result, the more they kept repeating that there was no room for doubt at all. The Liberal majority at Chayford at the last election had been nine hundred; and they continually assured each other (and themselves) that a majority of that size could no more melt away than an Alp could.
"You see," said Mr. Seaton, "though of course it might have diminished, a majority of that size could not possibly have transformed itself into a minority in three years." He was thinking to himself that if only four hundred and fifty voters had gone over to the other side, Paul would be beaten.
"Of course not," replied Joanna, "the result really is a foregone conclusion; it is only a question as to the size of the majority. She felt sure that the Conservative papers could not write as they did, if they had not grounds for their hope of which she knew nothing.
"It is really absurd to think that a mere boy like Lord Gailey should beat a brilliant politician like Paul; the idea is simply ludicrous!" exclaimed Isabel; but she wished to goodness that Paul had not had an aristocrat for his opponent, as there is an underlying respect for titles at the bottom of every British heart.
"It is no use our expecting Paul for a couple of hours yet," remarked Paul's mother; "it would be impossible for him to be here before then." She was feeling that something dreadful must have happened—either that the mob had killed Paul or else had not elected him—otherwise he would have been at home an hour ago.
And so they went on telling little comforting fibs to each other, and inwardly wondering how much longer this suspense could be endured.
Suddenly they heard the sound of wheels, and the stamping and shouting of a multitude.