"Pity the election can't come on just now!--we should have lively
times. A snowball is preferable to an addled egg any day. The
Poltram folks"--this was the common pronunciation of the town's
name--"have a liking for missiles at seasons of excitement."
From table, they went to the library--as yet unfurnished with
volumes--and made themselves comfortable by the fireside. Through
the windows nothing could be seen but a tempestuous whirl of flakes.
Lilian's cat, which had accompanied her in a basket, could not as
yet make itself at home on the hearthrug, and was glad of a welcome
to its mistress's lap. Denzil lit a pipe and studied the political
news of the day.
At four o'clock he waited impatiently the call of his relatives.
Lilian, unable to command her agitation, had gone into another room,
and was there counting the minutes as if each cost her a drop of
heart's blood. If this first meeting were but over! All else seemed
easy, could she but face Denzil's sister without betrayal of her
shame and dread. At length she heard wheels roll up to the door;
there were voices in the hall; Denzil came forth with loud and
joyous greeting; he led his visitors into the library. Five minutes
more of anguish, and the voices were again audible, approaching, at
the door.
"Well, Lily, here is my sister and Mr. Liversedge," said Denzil.
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