He worked
hard and unceasingly, his agent was equally tireless, and it was only
at the last that Mr Brooke's supporters awoke to the fact that if he
was to represent Marlehouse again no stone should be left unturned.
But it was too late: Mr Brooke, elderly, amiable, and lethargic, was
quite incapable of either directing or controlling his more ardent
supporters, and their efforts on his behalf were singularly devoid of
tact. The Tory and Unionist ladies were grievous offenders in this
respect. They started a house-to-house canvass in the town, and those
possessed of carriages or motors parcelled out the surrounding villages
and "did" them, their methods being the reverse of conciliatory.
Indeed, had Mr Brooke in the smallest degree realised how these zealous
supporters were injuring his cause, his smiling optimism would have
been sadly shaken.

The day after the accident Eloquent called at Marlehouse Infirmary to
ask for Buz, and was informed that the arm had been set successfully,
that it was a bad break, but that the Rontgen rays had been used, and
it was going on satisfactorily.

He wondered if he ought to send flowers or fruit to the invalid, but a
vivid recollection of the look in Buz's eyes as he watched him pack his
suit-case decided him that any such manifestation of sympathy would be
unsuitable. He then, although he was so rushed that he could hardly
overtake his engagements, hired a motor to drive out to the Manor
House, and so hurried the chauffeur that they fell straightway into a
police trap and were "warned."

He asked for Mrs Ffolliot, and Fusby blandly informed him that she was
in Marlehouse with Master Buz.

"Is Miss Ffolliot at home?" Eloquent asked boldly.

"Miss Ffolliot is out huntin' with the young gentlemen," Fusby remarked
stiffly.

So Eloquent was fain to get into his motor again, and quite forgot to
look in on his aunt on the way back.

The night before the election there was a Liberal meeting in the Town
Hall, and a certain section of the Tory party, a youthful and
irresponsible section it must be confessed, had arranged to attend the
meeting, and if possible bring it to nought. The ringleader in this
scheme was a young man named Rabbich, whose people some years before
had bought a large property in a village about four miles from
Redmarley.

Mr Rabbich, senr., was an extremely wealthy man with many irons in the
fire, a man so busy that he found little time to look after eithe