"Oh, and me."
"It was but last night," said Spedley, "that she took upon herself to set me right about the vote by ballot; and, instead of arguing the point, she told me that I was incapable of forming an opinion on it, ignorant as I was of the rapid developments of humanity. To be sure, I was,—how should I know what she meant by that?"
"He—he—he!" tittered Mrs. Spedley.—"Developments of humanity, indeed!"
"That is a philosophy she understands," said Stone, sarcastically; "and will certainly give us an illustration of it herself shortly——"
Stone chuckled immensely at this double entendre; and the ladies, forgetting their prudery in their spite, laughed too, and declared that nothing was more likely.
That is only a sample of what was said in Walton. The whole town was busy with the event. Envy aided tittle-tattle; and not a voice was raised in Hester's defence. Sir Chetsom to visit her! Sir Chetsom to drive up to her door! Sir Chetsom to send her game! Sir Chetsom to take her drives in his curricle. It was enough to make an English community, like that of Walton, mad. How she escaped lapidation is a mystery.
Hester knew the scandal she occasioned, and triumphed in it. To be the mark for jealousy, was a condition affixed to superiority. Detraction was the tribute impotence paid to power. She was hated—she knew it—how could it be otherwise?—was she not a genius? At their gossip she laughed; with society and its sophisms she was at open war.
Having had this one glimpse of the state of opinion in Walton, let us now turn our attention to the Hall. The St. Johns, Marmaduke, Tom Wincot, and the family, are in the drawing room. Julius holds the volume of Hester's poems in his hands, having just finished reading it aloud:—
"Now, Mr. Vyner," said Julius, "do you rescind your harsh judgment; will you not admit that there is at least great facility in these poems?"
"Facility?" replied Vyner. "Yes, yes,