"Have you read Mr. Gladstone's address to the electors of
Midlothian?" Serena began by asking, with a roguish look.
"Pooh! What is such stuff to me?"
"I knew I should tease you. What do you think of Mr. Quarrier's
chances?"
"Oh, he will be elected, no doubt."
Glazzard spoke absently, his eyes on Serena's face, but seemingly
not conscious of her expression.
"I hope he will," she rejoined.
"What!--you hope so?"
"Yes, I do. I am convinced he is the right man. I agree with his
principles. Henceforth I am a Radical."
Glazzard laughed mockingly, and Serena joined, but not in the same
tone.
"I like him," she pursued, with a certain odd persistence. "If I
could do it decently, I would canvass for him. He is a manly man and
means what he says. I like his wife, too--she is very sweet."
He glanced at her and pursed his lips.
"I am sure," added Serena, "you like me to praise such good friends
of yours?"
"Certainly."
They were in the room where the grand piano stood, for Mrs. Mumbray
had gone to pass the day with friends at a distance. Serena said of
a sudden:
"Will you please play me something--some serious piece--one of
the best you know?"
"You mean it?"
"I do. I want to hear you play a really noble piece. You won't
refuse."
He eyed her in a puzzled way, but smiled, and sat down to the
instrument.
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