But she seemed to pick up her strength again
very quickly, and was soon hard at work canvassing among the
electors' wives.
"Don't overdo it," Denzil cautioned her. "Remember, if you are ill,
I shall mope by your bedside."
"I can't stop now that I have begun," was her reply. "If I try to
sit idle, I _shall_ be ill."
She could read nothing but newspapers; her piano was silent; she
talked politics, and politics only. Never was seen such a change in
woman, declared her intimates; yet, in spite of probabilities, they
thought her more charming than ever. No word of animosity ever fell
from her lips; what inspired her was simple ardour for Denzil's
cause, and, as she considered it, that of the oppressed multitude.
In her way, said Toby Liversedge, she was as eloquent as Quarrier
himself, and sundry other people were of the same opinion.
CHAPTER XVI
With sullen acquiescence the supporters of Mr. Mumbray and
"Progressive Conservatism"--what phrase is not good enough for the
lips of party?--recognized that they must needs vote for the old
name. Dissension at such a moment was more dangerous than an
imbecile candidate. Mr. Sam Quarrier had declared that rather than
give his voice for Mumbray he would remain neutral. "Old W.-B. is
good enough for a figure-head; he signifies something. If we are to
be beaten, let it be on the old ground.
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