"No," she replied. "I've no interest in him. I should like to see her, though."
"I am afraid there's no chance of that," said Paul. "Unless you happen to be in town when she's driving round."
"I'll see her somehow. And, my boy, I'll bring you both together!" And there was a far-away look in her eyes.
On the afternoon of the meeting Paul was at the railway station when the train from Manchester came in, and as he watched the passengers alight his heart throbbed violently, for, descending from the train, he saw not only Mr. Bolitho, but Mary, accompanied by a young fellow who, he judged, would be the Honourable Stephen Boston.
"Oh, Stepaside," said Mr. Bolitho, going up to him with outstretched hand, as though nothing but pleasantries had ever passed between them, "I'm glad to see you. Of course, you know what's happened?"
"Yes," said Paul. "I suppose I ought to congratulate you!" The words were curtly spoken, and Bolitho was not slow to recognise his tone's, but he decided to take no notice of it.
"I hear you're to be the candidate on the other side again," he went on. "Allow me to introduce to you your opponent. I am sure you'll have a good, honest, straight fight!"
"I hope so," said Paul quietly, at the same time holding out his hand to Mr. Boston.
"We shall not fight on equal terms, I am afraid," said the young man with a laugh; "that is"—and he corrected himself—"I shall be altogether at a disadvantage. You know these people, and I don't. I am afraid, too, that many of them regard the land-owning class with disfavour; still I'll put up the best fight I'm able, and I am sure we shall have a jolly good time! I am glad to meet you, Mr. Stepaside, and I hope, whatever the result of the election is, we shall part good friends."
"It shall not be my fault if we do not," said Paul heartily. "But I warn you that I'm going to beat you!" And he laughed almost merrily.