ther that was dear to her. In the
distant years, he had been convinced of Hubert's honorable nature. He
might not have changed. At all events he was gone now, and might never
return. It was more agreeable to attribute Althea's rigid coldness to a
shock of grief, rather than to a shock of hatred to himself or of
affection for another. Nevertheless, he gave her no peace nor quiet. He
became angered if she did not converse, and equally out of temper with
whatever she might say.

Does such a man deserve a wife? Let him have a woman, then, who will
bring him to his senses--or what passes for senses--in a manner
veritably Xantippean; and not one of those tender-hearted, peace-loving
creatures who would bless some good man's heart and home.

There are few men upon whom kindness and gentleness will not make more
or less impression; but our unprepossessing hero is of that unfavored
few.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE AWAKENING.

After a few weeks, Thornton has something outside his house to engage
him. Election is approaching. Although neither Thornton nor his rival
are in the field as candidates, each has his favorite nominee to
support. The fire that Thornton has kept raging within Vine Cottage is
now transferred to hall, stump and settler's cabin. Sharp is not in the
background. His antagonist hears of him, or crosses his trail here,
there and elsewhere. He is put to his wits' end in checkmating and
circumventing him. He, at length, learns something quite astonishing. He
has returned from an extended trip to the country, supposing Sharp to be
not far in front or rear. To his chagrin he has remained all the while
in town, and been an attendant at the Catholic Mission, being held for
ten days in Windsor.

"That is a game at which two can play, I am thinking," said Thornton,
mentally, grinding his teeth at the thought of the votes Sharp's
presence might secure among such a crowd.

"Althea," he said, excitedly, going over to his house, "that rascally
fellow is robbing me of all the Irish votes. Get your bonnet and come
with me down to St. Mary's. I can drop on my knees and become as good an
idolater as that scoundrel of a Sharp. Who would ever have suspected him
of pursuing that dodge? But he is up to all games. Come, how long does
it take you to put on your bonnet and shawl? They say an old Jesuit is
going to preach; I think when his mission is over, I will take private
lessons of him in the art of intrigue. That is what Sh