"Hush, hush, boys! don't talk of defiance," said Mrs Grey. "I am sure, I wish there were no such things as elections--in country places, at least. They make nothing but mischief. And, indeed, Hester, my dear, it is a great pity that those should meddle who can keep out of them, as your husband fairly may. Whichever way he might vote, a great many disagreeable remarks would be made; and if he votes as he says, for Mr Lowry, I really think, and so does Mr Grey, that it will be a serious injury to him in his profession." Hester replied, with some gravity, that people could never do their whole duty without causing disagreeable remarks; and seldom without suffering serious injury. "But why should he vote?" persisted Mrs Grey. "Because he considers it his duty, which is commonly his reason for whatever he does." "An excellent reason too: but I rather thought--I always fancied he defended acting from impulse. But I beg your pardon, my dear:" and she nodded and winked towards the young people, who were trying the impression of a new seal at the centre table, heeding nothing about either duty or impulse. Margaret had fixed the attention of the boys upon this curious seal of hers, in order to obviate a snatching of cockades, or other political feud, upon the spot. "It seems as if I could speak about nothing but your husband, my dear," continued Mrs Grey, in a whisper: "but you know I feel towards him as towards a son, as I have told him. Do you think he has quite, entirely, got over his accident?" "Entirely, he thinks. He calls himself in perfect health." "Well, he ought to know best; but--" "But what?" asked Hester, anxiously. "It has occurred to us, that he may still want watching and care. It has struck both Mr Grey and me, that he is not quite the same that he was before that accident. It is natural enough. And yet I thought in the autumn that he was entirely himself again: but there is still a little difference--a little flatness of spirits sometimes--a little more gravity than used to be natural to him." "But you do not think he looks ill? Tell me just what you think." "Oh, no, not ill; rather delicate, perhaps; but I am sure it is wonderful that he is so well after such an accident. He calls himself perfectly well, does he?" "Perfectly." "Oh, then, we may be quite easy; for he must know best. Do not let anything that I have said dwell upon your mind, my dear. I only just thought I would ask."