little shock of surprise that "the Chorus Girl" should look just as she did, and that she knew how to bear herself in a way that did not yield an inch to the enemy, yet at the same time scrupulously refrained from offering battle. Here was beauty of a very compelling kind, and in the hostile view of its present beholder something more valuable. The distinguished air, the look of breeding, went some way to excuse a deplorable infatuation. But as far as "the Chorus Girl" herself was concerned, a little over-sensitive as circumstances may have made her on the score of her own dignity, it was far from pleasant to detect in this authentic member of the family that power of conveying subtle insult, without speech or look, which belonged to the two others, presumably her sisters, whom she had met in the Park.
Somehow the girl felt a keen rage within. It may have been the world of unconscious arrogance behind that aloof nod, it may have been the implicit challenge in the lidded glance down the long straight nose. But whatever the cause, Mary suddenly felt a surge of resentment in her very bones.
In the meantime, the People's Candidate was playing his part to perfection. The flight of time had wrought wonders in this champion of Demos. He was no longer tongue-tied and awkward; even the roll of his "r's" was so diminished that Ardnaleuchan would hardly have known its child. Everything was in perfect harmony. After a few brief passages with Harriet, audaciously humorous, in which homage was paid to old times, he turned with a sportsman's eye to exchange a ready quip with Joe and Eliza.
Joe, in his heart, was scandalized. A Tory to the bone,
