‘Oh! there is Mrs. Mallory. I am sure she will object,’ said Helena, suddenly, and with animation. ‘Leave her to me!’ said he, almost impatiently. ‘See, Helena, we are almost at the park, and you have not given me one look, one word, to tell me that you are really mine. I have not deserved to be so treated.’ ‘Forgive me!’ said she, suddenly, in a voice of tenderness. ‘I was so unhappy this afternoon before I saw you, and now I am too happy for words. I am afraid of my happiness. Come soon to see me, and I will try to behave better.’ She looked at him at last with an April face, beneath whose showers lay a broad and fathomless heaven of love. Sebastian was satisfied. ‘And may I write?’ he asked. ‘Yes, do!’ returned Helena, and the cab stopped at Mrs. Galloway’s door. Helena and the books got out, and Sebastian Mallory drove away again, to the station--and a meeting. CHAPTER IV. A CONQUEST. ‘My dear Mallory, I am glad to see you here at last! Were you unexpectedly detained?’ asked Canon Ponsonby, greeting Sebastian at the door of the room in the town-hall in which the meeting was to be held. It began at half-past seven, and that time had been already past when Sebastian arrived. ‘I was very unexpectedly detained,’ replied the young man, pressing Canon Ponsonby’s hand with a fervour which seemed a little extravagant to that gentleman. ‘But I am quite ready now, quite fit,’ he added. ‘Suppose we go to the platform. They seem to be getting impatient.’ They ascended the platform, and Sebastian was surprised at the heartiness of the greeting he received. He had not known how popular he was, and in his present mood he felt absolutely touched by these signs of goodwill on the part of the ‘people.’ All things combined to-night to rouse and inspire him. One or two even of his warmest friends and supporters, and most earnest admirers, had said they feared Mallory’s coldness of manner might be mistaken for indifference, that he was a little too prone to betray some of the contempt which he felt for party and party feeling: and had a way, in the extreme philosophy of his radicalism, of saying things which might be mistaken by the uninitiated Thanshope mind for distinctly Conservative expressions. On this occasion, these doubting hearts were agreeably deceived. Sebastian’s tact came strongly into play; he made one of those fortunate speeches, in which the right was happily touched off, and in which the truth was told without disturbing people’s feelings. He felt himself penetrated by an enthusiasm as rare, with him, as it was agreeable. Every now and then he seemed to lose sight of the sea of faces below him, and to see only one; his own voice seemed to die away, while Helena’s voice bade him do what was right, and tell the truth as far as he knew it. Under that influence questions which had hitherto seemed even a little contemptible were suddenly revealed as susceptible of being raised