is a question of right and wrong"--thus
the ardent soul from Massachusetts unfurled her banner to the
breeze--"are you going to do what is right or what is expedient?" The
smouldering fire which had made the deck hot walking all through the
meetings, showed signs of breaking out of cover; everybody in hearing
craned her neck; there were murmurs of approval and polite sniffings of
dissent to the right and to the left. The Massachusetts woman said
"Life is a compromise;" and shrugged her shoulders. Mrs. Hardy put up
the white flag in a mild sentence: "Mrs. Lowe is calling us to order, I
think."

* * * * *

The convention had passed safely to the ballot. The opposition had
sprung its mines; and the regulars had discharged their heavy artillery
behind the proper parliamentary subterfuges. The undecided voters had,
as usual, asked to take back their ballots, and as usual had been
refused. The excitement had risen until it showed in white or flushed
faces and strained voices, in clapping, and hisses; but the chairman's
inscrutable calm never changed, and through it all she held the
convention perfectly in hand.

Two men had safely run the gauntlet of ticket takers, and were seated in
the lower gallery. They were a middle-aged man, dark, portly, carefully
dressed in silver-gray tweeds, with a silk shirt; and a young man, dark,
slender, in a lighter suit, with a stiff white collar on his pink
negligee shirt. There was an air of distinction about both men; they
looked to be men of importance in their own locality, men accustomed to
command and deference; but nothing of gentler modesty and meekness than
their demeanor can be imagined. They shrank back in their seats and sat
close to each other, as one will observe timid children sitting, who
have wandered into a strange house.

"You--you don't suppose they will put us out? eh, Darrie?" said the
elder, in a low voice, "not _now_?"

"Of course not," responded Darrie, with simulated lightness; "look there
to the left, there's Myrtie. That president is a good presiding officer;
you would not guess all this row is over her, she's absolutely
impartial--by Jove!"

"What's the matter? Do you see mother anywhere?"

"No, sir; did you catch that, the secretary's explanation of the
parliamentary question? Pretty clear, I call it; but they're getting in
all their points, I observe, working questions of privilege for all they
are worth."

"Very clever,