Drusilla's mother was in a state of profound dejection and semi-collapse. "I don't know what Alderley will say," was the burden of her lament. I told her it was very fortunate he was away. He would have time to think it over and take a kindly view. "A daughter of mine in prison," said my sister. "The shame of it." "Oh no," I said, "not at all. There is no shame in political offence. The fight for freedom, you know. Think of Joan of Arc. Think of--of--Jael and Sisera. Some one must always suffer before justice is done." This cheered the poor mother a little, but all my good efforts were undone by Lionel, who rushed in at this moment, pale with fury. Neither Naomi nor I could check his ravings for some minutes, and his mother accepted them as a true picture of the case. Naturally. Was he not her son, while I was only her step-brother twice his age? Lionel, I need hardly say, disregarded the seriousness of the cause of female enfranchisement. His principal concern was the name of Wynne, and L. Wynne in particular, and the effect of Drusilla's martyrdom upon it. How could he walk to the wicket, in the Middlesex and Surrey match to-morrow, with the knowledge of this outrage not only in his own mind but only too evidently in that of every spectator at the Oval? How could he do himself justice as a bat under such a humiliation? And think of the report the next day--"Wynne, the brother of the notorious Suffragette, secured a well-merited duck," or, "To be 'caught out' seems just now to run in the Wynne family." Lionel's fancy played with the theme like a comic journalist in an evening paper. He covered himself with gratuitous ridicule. "My dear boy," I said at last, "how extraordinarily out of date you are. You are making two of the least pardonable mistakes of your age--you are taking something seriously and you are disregarding the benefits of advertisement." He turned on me like a tiger. "Oh yes," he said, "you never find fault with anything. You just smile and enjoy it." "I can't find much fault with Drusilla," I said humbly, "because she is sincere. There is no harm in wanting to be considered more important than you are: it is not wrong to want to vote. Personally I hope I shall never vote again, but that is not virtue in me--it is deplorable, unpatriotic weakness. Drusilla takes a passionate interest in public affairs and wants to be allowed to participate in them, and considers it an injustice that she should not be allowed to because she is a woman and not a man. In her excitement for this cause she and her friends seem to have gone a little too far and have come into collision with a law and the police. That is all. There is no disgrace; on the contrary, it is a merit in any one to-day to be ready to suffer for any cause."