ffenings. But to-night he
asked no leave, and in her astonishment she was almost passive.

"Oh, do let me go!" she cried at last, trying to disengage herself
completely.

"No!" he said with emphasis, still holding her hand firmly. "Come and
sit down here. They will look after themselves."

He put her, whether she would or no, into an arm-chair and knelt beside
her.

"Did you think it was hardly kind," he said with a quiver of voice he
could not repress, "to let me hear for the first time, in public, that
you had promised to go to one of that man's meetings after refusing
again and again to come to any of mine?"

"Do you want to forbid me to go?" she said quickly. There was a feeling
in her which would have been almost relieved, for the moment, if he had
said yes.

"By no means," he said steadily. "That was not our compact. But--guess
for yourself what I want! Do you think"--he paused a moment--"do you
think I put nothing of myself into my public life--into these meetings
among the people who have known me from a boy? Do you think it is all a
convention--that my feeling, my conscience, remain outside? You can't
think that! But if not, how can I bear to live what is to be so large a
part of my life out of your ken and sight? I know--I know--you warned me
amply--you can't agree with me. But there is much besides intellectual
agreement possible--much that would help and teach us both--if only we
are together--not separated--not holding aloof--"

He stopped, watching all the changes of her face. She was gulfed in a
deep wave of half-repentant feeling, remembering all his generosity, his
forbearance, his devotion.

"When are you speaking next?" she half whispered. In the dim light her
softened pose, the gentle sudden relaxation of every line, were an
intoxication.

"Next week--Friday--at Gairsly. Hallin and Aunt Neta are coming."

"Will Miss Raeburn take me?"

His grey eyes shone upon her, and he kissed her hand.

"Mr. Hallin won't speak for you!" she said, after the silence, with a
return of mischief.

"Don't be so sure! He has given me untold help in the drafting of my
Bill. If I didn't call myself a Conservative, he would vote for me
to-morrow. That's the absurdity of it. Do you know, I hear them coming
back?"

"One thing," she said hastily, drawing him towards her, and then
holding him back, as though shrinking always from the feeling she could
so readily evoke. "I must say it; you oughtn't to give me s