"Who was taken with your good looks, I suppose. Take care Miss Tollart doesn't grow jealous, Kit."

"You will have your joke, Mr. Hendle," answered Beatson, his bronzed skin growing crimson and his brown eyes sparkling. "But Sophy knows that I have to play up to the customers to get the stuff sold." He turned from the wheel to look round generally. "Have you seen her? She's to meet me here and go with me for a spin."

Just then Miss Tollart appeared hurrying to the rendezvous as fast as her hobble-skirt would permit. She revealed herself as a fine-looking and decidedly flamboyant young woman with an independent air which suggested the suffragist. It could easily be seen, and by a less observant person than Carrington, that Kit would be known as "Mrs. Beatson's husband" when the ring was on the lady's finger. His chin betrayed a rather weak nature, and his eyes had much too kind a look in them to hint at mastery, while the tall black-browed young woman, who swung toward the group with the air of conquering Semiramis, appeared quite capable of dominating an empire, much less a husband. Carrington did not envy Kit's approaching connubial bliss.

"Mr. Carrington, Miss Tollart," said the Squire, introducing his friend to the new arrival. "Carrington, Miss Tollart is the daughter of our doctor."

Sophy winced at the mention of her father and Carrington wondered why she should. However, the emotion passed in a flash and Miss Tollart inspected the barrister much as a naturalist inspects a microbe under the microscope. The sniff with which she concluded her scrutiny hinted at dissatisfaction, if not at contempt. But then Sophy as an ardent suffragist never did think much of the male, and straightway flew her colors in the face of this particular one. "I am going to Elbowsham to speak at a meeting, Squire. Have I your good wishes?"

"That you will come home safe and sound?" queried Hendle with twinkling eyes. "You have. Don't insult the crowd more than you can help, Miss Tollart."

"I shall not conceal my opinions," retorted the lady, tightening her lips.

"Ah!" Carrington looked her up and down, "in that case I am glad Mr. Beatson and his car will be at hand to rescue you."

"I can fight my own battles," said Miss Tollart coolly. "But I see that you don't believe in Votes for Women."

"My dear lady," replied Carrington smoothly, "when I am in your presence I believe in anything you like to advance."