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 they like that; and a self-made man, and they like that; and he speaks capitally, tells 'em facts which they can understand, and they like that. He has done capitally from the first, and now they've got up some story—Harrington did that, I fancy, young Harrington acting for Potter and Fyfe, very clever fellow—they've got up some story that Joyce was jilted some time ago by the girl he was engaged to, who threw him over because he was poor, or something of that sort, I can't recollect the details, and that has been a splendid card with the women; they are insisting on their husbands' voting for him, so that altogether we're in a bad way."

"Do you think Mr. Creswell will be defeated, Mr. Gould? You'll tell me honestly, of course!"

"It's impossible to say until the day, quite impossible, my dear Mrs. Creswell; but I'm bound to confess it looks horribly like it. By what I understand from Mr. Croke, who wrote to me the other day, Mr. Creswell has given up attending public meetings, and that kind of thing, and that's foolish, very foolish!"

"His health has been anything but good lately, and"

"I know, and of course his spirits have been down also! But he must keep them up, and he must go to the poll, even if he's beaten."

"And the chances of that are, you think, strong?"

"Are, I fear, very strong! However, something might yet be done if he were to do a little house-to-house canvassing in his old bright spirits. But in any case, Mrs. Creswell, he must stick to his guns, and we look to you to keep him there!"

"I will do my best," said Marian, and the interview was at an end.

As the door closed behind Mr. Gould, Marian flung herself into an easy chair, and the bitter tears of rage welled up into her eyes. So, it was destined that this man was to cross her path to her detriment for the rest of her life. Oh, what terrible shame and humiliation to think of him winning the victory from them, more especially after her interview with him, and the avowal of her intense desire to be successful in the matter! There could be no doubt about the result. Mr. Gould was understood, she had heard, to be in general inclined to take a hopeful view of affairs; but his verdict on the probable issue of the Brocksopp election was unmistakably dolorous. What a bitter draught to swallow, what frightful mortification to undergo! What could be done? It would be impolitic to tell Mr. Creswell of his agent's fears, and even if he were told of them, he was just the man who would more than ever insist on fighting until the very last, and would not imagine that there was any disgrace in being beaten after gallant combat by an honourable antagonist. And there was no possible way out of it, unless—Great Heaven, what a horrible thought!—unless he were to die. That would settle it; there would be no defeat for him then, and she would be left free, rich, and with the power to She must not think of anything so dreadful. The noise of wheels on the gravel, the carriage at the door, and her husband descending. How wearily he drags his limbs down the steps, what lassitude there is in every action, and how wan his cheeks are! He is going towards the drawing-room on the ground-floor, and she hastens to meet him there.

"What is the matter? Are you ill?"

"Very—very ill! but pleased to see you, to get back home!" This with a touch of the old manner, and in the old voice. "Very ill, Marian, weak, and down, and depressed. I can't stand it, Marian, I feel I can't."

"What is it that seems too much for you?"

"All this worry and annoyance, this daily contact with all these horrible people! I must give it up, Marian! I must give it up!"

"You must give what up, dear?"

"This election! all the worry of it, the preliminary worry, has been nigh to kill me, and I must have no more of it!"

"Well, but think"

"I have thought, and I'm determined, that is, if you think so too! I'll give it up, I'll retire, anything to have done with it!"

"But what will people say?"

"What people, who have a right to say anything?"

"Your committee, I mean—those who have been working for you so earnestly and so long!"

"I don't care what they say! My health is more important than anything else—and you ought to think so, Marian!"

He spoke with a nervous irritability such as she had never previously noticed in him, and looked askance at her from under his grey eyebrows. He began to think that there might be some foundation of truth in Gertrude's out-blurted