noon, and the men have been getting as much as
fifteen shillings a head!" Moggs was not consoled, but he did make
his speech. It was poor and vapid;--but still there was just enough
of manhood left in him for that. As soon as his speech had been
spoken he escaped up to London by the night mail train. Westmacott
also spoke; but announcement was made on behalf of the members of the
borough that they were, both of them, in their beds.

CHAPTER XXX.

"MISS MARY IS IN LUCK."

The election took place on a Tuesday,--Tuesday, the 17th of October.
On the following day one of the members received a visit in his
bedroom at the Percy Standard which was very pleasant to him. His
daughter Patience had come down to nurse Sir Thomas and take him back
to Fulham. Sir Thomas had refused to allow any message to be sent
home on the day on which the accident had occurred. On the following
morning he had telegraphed to say that his arm had been broken, but
that he was doing very well. And on the Wednesday Patience was with
him.

In spite of the broken arm it was a pleasant meeting. For the last
fortnight Sir Thomas had not only not seen a human being with whom he
could sympathise, but had been constrained to associate with people
who were detestable to him. His horror of Griffenbottom, his disgust
at Trigger, his fear of Mr. Pabsby's explanations, and his inability
to cope with Messrs. Spicer and Roodylands when they spoke of mustard
and boots, had been almost too much for him. The partial seclusion
occasioned by his broken arm had been a godsend to him. In such a
state he was prepared to feel that his daughter's presence was an
angel's visit. And even to him his success had something of the
pleasure of a triumph. Of course he was pleased to have won the seat.
And though whispers of threats as to a petition had already reached
him, he was able in these, the first hours of his membership, to
throw his fears on that head behind him. The man must be of a most
cold temperament who, under such circumstances, cannot allow himself
some short enjoyment of his new toy. It was his at least for the
time, and he probably told himself that threatened folk lived long.
That Patience should take glory in the victory was a matter of
course. "Dear papa," she said, "if you can only get your arm well
again!"

"I don't suppose there is any cause for fear as to that."

"But a broken arm is a great misfortune," said Patience.

"Well;--yes. One can