consistency of gatherings of that
nature with the proper independence of representative assemblies. The
people heard him through this argument in respectful silence, clapping
their hands when, at the end of it, he paused before he passed to the
second part of his speech. At the first sign of attack, at the first
quietly drawn contrast between what the seceders had promised and what
they were doing, his audience was a changed one. Fierce murmurs of
assent and groans became audible now, and when Medland, caught by the
contagion that spread to him from his listeners, gave rein to his
feelings, and launched into a passionate declaration that, to his mind,
the liberty claimed for members did not mean liberty to betray those
who had trusted them, the murmurs and groans rose into one tumult of
savage applause, and men raised both hands over their heads and shook
them, as though they would have clenched every word that fell from him
with a blow of the fist.

Daisy Medland sat just behind her father, exulting in his triumph, and,
at every happy stroke, glancing at Norburn, and by sharing her joy with
him doubling his. When the Premier had finished, and the last resolution
had been carried, she ran to him, crying, "Splendid! I never heard you
so good. Wasn't he splendid?" and looking so completely joyful that
Medland was sure she must quite have forgotten Dick Derosne. She took
his arm, and they made their way together to a carriage which was in
waiting. An escort of police surrounded it, to save the Premier from his
friends, and he, with Daisy, Norburn, and Mr. Floyd, the Treasurer, got
in without disturbance. The coachman drove off rapidly down the main
avenue, distancing the enthusiasts who would have had the horses out of
the shafts. They passed a long row of carriages, belonging to people who
had not feared to come and look on from a distance, and at last, knowing
the procession would go back another way, Medland bade his driver stop
under the trees, and lit a cigar.

"And I wonder if it will all make any difference!" said he, puffing
delightedly. He had all an old political organiser's love for a big
meeting, which does not exclude scepticism as to its value.

"Oh, you gave it 'em finely," said the Treasurer.

"I believe it'll frighten two or three anyhow," observed Norburn.

"I _know_ we shall win to-morrow," cried Daisy, squeezing her father's
arm.

"Ah! here's a special Sunday evening paper--how we encourage
wick