he hall by her sister, she protested that she hadn't
cried till she got inside the gate, anyhow. Abby lectured her soundly
on her want of proper pride: she was much too big a girl to be "seen
around" on a day when her brother was "running," if it were only for
school trustee. The other ladies of the family, having acquired proper
pride kept in the back of the house so as not to be tempted to look out
of the front windows. Mrs Murchison assumed a stoical demeanour and
made a pudding; though there was no reason to help Eliza, who was
sufficiently lacking in proper pride to ask the milkman whether Mr Lorne
wasn't sure to be elected down there now. The milkman said he guessed
the best man 'ud get in, but in a manner which roused general suspicion
as to which he had himself favoured.

"We'll finish the month," said Mrs Murchison, "and then not another
quart do we take from HIM--a gentleman that's so uncertain when he's
asked a simple question."

The butcher came, and brought a jovial report without being asked for
it; said he was the first man to hand in a paper at his place, but they
were piling up there in great shape for Mr Murchison when he left.

"If he gets in, he gets in," said Mrs Murchison. "And if he doesn't
it won't be because of not deserving to. Those were real nice cutlets
yesterday, Mr Price, and you had better send us a sirloin for tomorrow,
about six pounds; but it doesn't matter to an ounce. And you can save us
sweetbreads for Sunday; I like yours better than Luff's."

John Murchison, Alec, and Oliver came shortly up to dinner, bringing
stirring tales from the field. There was the personator in Subdivision
Six of a dead man--a dead Grit--wanted by the bloodhounds of the other
side and tracked to the Reform committee room, where he was ostensibly
and publicly taking refuge.

"Why did he go there?" asked Stella, breathlessly.

"Why, to make it look like a put-up job of ours, of course, "said her
brother. "And it was a put-up job, a good old Tory fake. But they didn't
calculate on Bingham and Bingham's memory. Bingham happened to be in the
committee room, and he recognized this fellow for a regular political
tough from up Muskoka way, where they get six for a bottle of Canadian
and ten if it's Scotch. 'Why, good morning,' says Bingham, 'thought you
were in jail,' and just then he catches sight of a couple of trailers
from the window. Well, Bingham isn't just lightning smart, but then he
isn't SLOW, you k