"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 his length in congenial mud. The conflict spread. Twenty or thirty boys took coloured rosettes from their pockets (they were just leaving school) and pinned them to their coats, then rushed to combat with party war-cries. Fletcher senior had behaved like a brutal coward (though alas! a Gladstonian—it was sorrowfully admitted), actually throwing a stone at an enemy who was engaged in single fight, with the result that he had cut open the head of one of his own friends—a most serious wound. An under-master (never a favourite, and now loathed by the young Liversedges as a declared Tory) had interposed in the unfairest way—what else could be expected of him? To all this Mrs. Liversedge gave ear not without pride, but as soon as possible she drew Lilian apart into a quiet room, and did her best to soothe the feverishness which was constantly declaring itself.
About three o'clock Mrs. Wade called. She had not expected to find Lilian here. There was a moment's embarrassment on both sides. When they sat down to talk, the widow's eyes flitted now and then over Lilian's face, but she addressed herself almost exclusively to Mrs. Liversedge, and her visit lasted only a quarter of an hour. On leaving, she went into the town to make some purchases, and near the Liberal committee-rooms it was her fortune to meet with Quarrier.
"I have wanted to see you," he said, regarding her anxiously. "Lily has got over it much better than I expected; but it won't do—she can't go on in this excitement."
"I have just seen her at your sister's. She doesn't look very well"
"Could I venture to ask one more kindness of you, Mrs. Wade? May she come to you, say the day after to-morrow, and stay over night, and over polling-day?"
"I shall be very glad indeed," faltered the widow, with something in her face which did not seem to be reluctance, though it was unlike pleasure.
"Are you quite sure that it isn't asking too much of you? At my sister's she is in a perpetual uproar; it's worse than at home. And I don't know where else to send her—indeed I don't. But I am getting frightened, that's the truth. If she could be with you during the polling-day"——
"How can you hesitate to ask such a simple thing?" broke in Mrs. Wade. "Shall I ask her myself?"
"You are a good friend. Your conversation will have a soothing effect. She likes you so much, and gives such weight to everything you say. Try to set her mind at ease, Mrs. Wade; you can do it if any one can."