meeting"; and the ladies were firm in
the resolution not to be left at home by themselves. They dressed with a
view to the large assembly of spectators before whom they were about to
appear; and they outtalked the men on political subjects, all the way to
the town.

The most delightful of surprises was in store for them, when they
reached the market hall. Among the crowd of ordinary gentlemen, waiting
under the portico until the proceedings began, appeared one person of
distinction, whose title was "Reverend," and whose name was Mirabel.

Francine was the first to discover him. She darted up the steps and held
out her hand.

"This _is_ a pleasure!" she cried. "Have you come here to see--" she
was about to say Me, but, observing the strangers round her, altered the
word to Us. "Please give me your arm," she whispered, before her young
friends had arrived within hearing. "I am so frightened in a crowd!"

She held fast by Mirabel, and kept a jealous watch on him. Was it only
her fancy? or did she detect a new charm in his smile when he spoke to
Emily?

Before it was possible to decide, the time for the meeting had arrived.
Mr. Wyvil's friends were of course accommodated with seats on the
platform. Francine, still insisting on her claim to Mirabel's arm, got
a chair next to him. As she seated herself, she left him free for a
moment. In that moment, the infatuated man took an empty chair on the
other side of him, and placed it for Emily. He communicated to that
hated rival the information which he ought to have reserved for
Francine. "The committee insist," he said, "on my proposing one of
the Resolutions. I promise not to bore you; mine shall be the shortest
speech delivered at the meeting."

The proceedings began.

Among the earlier speakers not one was inspired by a feeling of mercy
for the audience. The chairman reveled in words. The mover and seconder
of the first Resolution (not having so much as the ghost of an idea to
trouble either of them), poured out language in flowing and overflowing
streams, like water from a perpetual spring. The heat exhaled by the
crowded audience was already becoming insufferable. Cries of "Sit
down!" assailed the orator of the moment. The chairman was obliged to
interfere. A man at the back of the hall roared out, "Ventilation!"
and broke a window with his stick. He was rewarded with three rounds of
cheers; and was ironically invited to mount the platform and take the
chair.

U