nder these embarrassing circumstances, Mirabel rose to speak.

He secured silence, at the outset, by a humorous allusion to the prolix
speaker who had preceded him. "Look at the clock, gentlemen," he said;
"and limit my speech to an interval of ten minutes." The applause which
followed was heard, through the broken window, in the street. The boys
among the mob outside intercepted the flow of air by climbing on each
other's shoulders and looking in at the meeting, through the gaps left
by the shattered glass. Having proposed his Resolution with discreet
brevity of speech, Mirabel courted popularity on the plan adopted by the
late Lord Palmerston in the House of Commons--he told stories, and
made jokes, adapted to the intelligence of the dullest people who
were listening to him. The charm of his voice and manner completed his
success. Punctually at the tenth minute, he sat down amid cries of "Go
on." Francine was the first to take his hand, and to express admiration
mutely by pressing it. He returned the pressure--but he looked at the
wrong lady--the lady on the other side.

Although she made no complaint, he instantly saw that Emily was overcome
by the heat. Her lips were white, and her eyes were closing. "Let me
take you out," he said, "or you will faint."

Francine started to her feet to follow them. The lower order of the
audience, eager for amusement, put their own humorous construction on
the young lady's action. They roared with laughter. "Let the parson and
his sweetheart be," they called out; "two's company, miss, and three
isn't." Mr. Wyvil interposed his authority and rebuked them. A lady
seated behind Francine interfered to good purpose by giving her a chair,
which placed her out of sight of the audience. Order was restored--and
the proceedings were resumed.

On the conclusion of the meeting, Mirabel and Emily were found waiting
for their friends at the door. Mr. Wyvil innocently added fuel to the
fire that was burning in Francine. He insisted that Mirabel should
return to Monksmoor, and offered him a seat in the carriage at Emily's
side.

Later in the evening, when they all met at dinner, there appeared a
change in Miss de Sor which surprised everybody but Mirabel. She was gay
and good-humored, and especially amiable and attentive to Emily--who sat
opposite to her at the table. "What did you and Mr. Mirabel talk about
while you were away from us?" she asked innocently. "Politics?"

Emily readily adopted