we had made up his mind he was to be that representative.

There was, needless to say, great excitement in Leith over Mr. Crewe's
proposed venture into the unknown seas of politics. I mean, of course,
that portion of Leith which recognized in Mr. Crewe an eligible
bachelor and a person of social importance, for these qualities were not
particularly appealing to the three hundred odd farmers whose votes were
expected to send him rejoicing to the State capital.

"It is so rare with us for a gentleman to go into politics, that we
ought to do everything we can to elect him," Mrs. Pomfret went about
declaring. "Women do so much in England, I wonder they don't do more
here. I was staying at Aylestone Court last year when the Honourable
Billy Aylestone was contesting the family seat with a horrid Radical,
and I assure you, my dear, I got quite excited. We did nothing from
morning till night but electioneer for the Honourable Billy, and kissed
all the babies in the borough. The mothers were so grateful. Now, Edith,
do tell Jack instead of playing tennis and canoeing all day he ought to
help. It's the duty of all young men to help. Noblesse oblige, you know.
I can't understand Victoria. She really has influence with these country
people, but she says it's all nonsense. Sometimes I think Victoria has a
common streak in her--and no wonder. The other day she actually drove to
the Hammonds' in a buggy with an unknown lawyer from Ripton. But I told
you about it. Tell your gardener and the people that do your haying,
dear, and your chicken woman. My chicken woman is most apathetic, but do
you wonder, with the life they lead?"

Mr. Humphrey Crewe might have had, with King Charles, the watchword
"Thorough." He sent to the town clerk for a check-list, and proceeded to
honour each of the two hundred Republican voters with a personal visit.
This is a fair example of what took place in the majority of cases.

Out of a cloud of dust emerges an automobile, which halts, with
protesting brakes, in front of a neat farmhouse, guarded by great
maples. Persistent knocking by a chauffeur at last brings a woman to the
door. Mrs. Jenney has a pleasant face and an ample figure.

"Mr. Jenney live here?" cries Mr. Crewe from the driver's seat.

"Yes," says Mrs. Jenney, smiling.

"Tell him I want to see him."

"Guess you'll find him in the apple orchard."

"Where's that?"

The chauffeur takes down the bars, Mr. Jenney pricks up his ears, and
pr