nvass-book of the Yellows as closely
as Harley kept that of the Blues; and in despite of many pouting fits
and gusts of displeasure, took precisely the same pains for Leonard as
Harley took for Randal. There remained, however, apparently unshaken by
the efforts on either side, a compact body of about a Hundred and Fifty
voters, chiefly freemen. Would they vote Yellow? Would they vote Blue?
No one could venture to decide; but they declared that they would all
vote the same way. Dick kept his secret "caucuses," as he called them,
constantly nibbling at this phalanx. A hundred and fifty voters!--they
had the election in their hands! Never were hands so cordially shaken,
so caressingly clung to, so fondly lingered upon! But the votes
still stuck as firm to the hands as if a part of the skin, or of the
dirt,--which was much the same thing!

CHAPTER XX.

Whenever Audley joined the other guests of an evening--while Harley was
perhaps closeted with Levy and committeemen, and Randal was going the
round of the public-houses--the one with whom he chiefly conversed was
Violante. He had been struck at first, despite his gloom, less perhaps
by her extraordinary beauty than by something in the expression of
her countenance which, despite differences in feature and complexion,
reminded him of Nora; and when, by his praises of Harley, he drew her
attention, and won into her liking, he discovered, perhaps, that the
likeness which had thus impressed him came from some similarities
in character between the living and the lost one,--the same charming
combination of lofty thought and childlike innocence, the same
enthusiasm, the same rich exuberance of imagination and feeling. Two
souls that resemble each other will give their likeness to the looks
from which they beam. On the other hand, the person with whom Harley
most familiarly associated, in his rare intervals of leisure, was Helen
Digby. One day, Audley Egerton, standing mournfully by the window of
the sitting-room appropriated to his private use, saw the two, whom he
believed still betrothed, take their way across the park, side by side.
"Pray Heaven, that she may atone to him for all!" murmured Audley. "But
ah, that it had been Violante! Then I might have felt assured that the
Future would efface the Past,--and found the courage to tell him all.
And when last night I spoke of what Harley ought to be to England, how
like were Violante's eyes and smile to Nora's, when Nora liste