"Happy thoughts, old dear. I’ve had a particularly happy thought all the morning, and it shines out on my ingenuous countenance. Some folks never show anything, you know. My friend Templeton, now—ah! here he is! Roast pork, Bob—hurry up!" *IV* After early supper that evening, Eves and Templeton, giving each an arm to Mrs. Pouncey, set off for the Literary Institute. The good woman was greatly excited at the prospect of giving her vote for the first time next day, and had announced her intention of voting for "the gentleman," whereupon Eves had reproached her, with well-assumed severity. "That is not the right spirit, I am sure of it," he said. "You are going to exercise for the first time the priceless privilege, or right, or duty, of the franchise: a most solemn responsibility, Mrs. Pouncey. Yet you have made up your mind to vote for ’the gentleman’ without considering what views he professes, and without hearing the other side, which may be one of Nature’s gentlemen." "I like ’em best bred, same as pig," said Mrs. Pouncey, stoutly. "I don’t dispute your taste," returned Eves, "but I think you owe it to the principle of fair play at least to hear what the other fellow may have to say. This is your last chance: to-morrow is the fatal day: like the man in the poem, you must make up your mind between truth and falsehood, ’twixt the good and evil side." "Oh! how you do talk, Mr. Eves!" said Mrs. Pouncey. "I’ll go, then, to please you, and I hope as I shan’t be sorry for it." "I don’t think you will; in fact I think you will have quite a pleasant entertainment. Mr. Noakes has insisted on the hall being warm and cosy-like, and the chairs are quite good. I’ll find you a good place at the back of the hall." "Not too far back, then, for my hearing bain’t what it was." "But your eyes are good—wonderfully good for a lady of forty or so. You shall sit where you can hear—and see—everything." Templeton had privately taken Eves to task for persuading the old dame to venture out on a cold night; but Eves had only chuckled. The young officers were both in mufti, Eves having borrowed an old suit from his friend. It was twenty minutes to seven when they reached the hall. The first few rows of chairs were already occupied, and people were streaming in. Eves piloted Mrs. Pouncey to a seat in the middle of the sixth row from the back wall. "It do be warmish, to be sure," she said, removing her tippet. "Thanks to the mayor! Bob, look after Mrs. Pouncey. I’ll be back presently." He dodged his way through the incoming stream, and disappeared.