Quarrier would rather have been left in quiet over the proof-sheets of his book--it was already going through the press--but he welcomed the visitor with customary friendliness. "Capital speech of Hartington's yesterday." "Very good answer to Cross. What do you think of John Bright and the licensed victuallers?" "Oh," laughed Denzil, "he'll have to talk a good deal before he persuades them that temperance is money in their pockets! I don't see the good of that well-intentioned sophistry. But then, you know, I belong to the habitual drunkards! You have heard that Scatchard Vialls so represents me to all and sundry?" "I should proceed against him for slander." "On the contrary, I think it does me good. All the honest topers will rally to me, and the sober Liberals will smile indulgently. Sir Wilfred Lawson would long ago have been stamped out as a bore of the first magnitude but for his saving humour." Mrs. Wade presently made known her business; but with a preface which disturbed the nerves of both her listeners. "The enemy have a graver charge against you. I happened, an hour ago, to catch a most alarming rumour. Mr. Quarrier, your wife will be your ruin!" Notwithstanding the tone of burlesque, Lilian turned pale, and Quarrier stood frowning. Mrs. Wade examined them both, her bright eyes glancing quickly from one face to the other and back again. She did not continue, until Quarrier exclaimed impatiently: "What is it now?" "Nothing less than an accusation of bribery and corruption." Relief was audible in Denzil's laugh. "It's reported," Mrs. Wade went on, "that Mrs. Quarrier has been distributing money--money in handfuls, through half-a-dozen streets down by the river." "You don't really mean"----began Lilian, who could not even yet quite command her voice. "It's positively going about! I thought it my duty to come and tell you at once. What is the foundation?" "I warned you, Lily," said Denzil, good-humouredly. "The fact is, Mrs. Wade, she gave half-a-crown to some old woman in Water Lane this afternoon. It was imprudent, of course. Who told you about it?" "Mr. Rook, the stationer. It was talked of up and down High Street, he assures me. We may laugh, but this kind of misrepresentation goes a long way." "Let the blackguards make the most of it!" cried Quarrier. "I have as good things in store for them. One of Jobson's workmen told me this morning that he and his fellows were being distinctly intimidated; Jobson has told them several times that if the Radicals won, work would be scarce, and that the voters would have only themselves to thank for it. And Thomas Barker has been promising lowered rents at Lady-day." "But who _could_ have told such falsehoods about me?" asked Lilian. "Some old woman who didn't get the half-crown, no doubt," replied Mrs. Wade. "Those poor creatures I went to see have no vote."