Then came Harry; to him she listened, at him she looked. Whatever the difficulties of his private life might be, they did not avail to spoil his speaking; it is conceivable that they improved it, since nerves on the strain sometimes result in brilliant flashes. And he looked so handsome, with pale, eager, excited face. He could fall in love with a subject almost as deeply, almost as quickly, as with a woman, and for the moment be hardly less devoted to it, heart and soul. Perhaps he was a little over the heads of most of his audience, but they knew that it was a fine performance and were willing to take for granted some things which they did not understand. "That's talking, that is!" said a man near the car. "Mr. Harry's the one to give ye that." Of course the Nun was persuaded in the matter of the National Anthem. Billy led her round to the platform, where Lord Meriton welcomed her, and introduced her to the meeting as Miss Doris Flower, the famous London singer, who had kindly consented to sing the National Anthem. For once in her life the Nun was very nervous, but she sang. Her sweet voice and her remarkable prettiness stormed the meeting. They would have another song. The applause brought back her confidence. Before she had become a nun or a Quaker she had once been, in early days, a Cameron Highlander. A couple of martial and patriotic ditties remained in her memory; she gave them one, and excited enthusiasm. They cried for more--more! An encore was insisted upon. In spite of the brilliant speakers, the Nun was the heroine of the evening. She bowed, she smiled, she fell altogether in love with Meriton. Thoughts of the Lion rose strongly in her mind. "A great success, and we owe a great deal of it to you, Miss Flower," said the noble chairman. "You just put the crown on it all. I wish we could have you here at election time!" The whole platform besought the Nun to come down at election time with more patriotic songs. Most urgent was the pretty, slight, fair girl who was Harry Belfield's _fiancée_. Her eyes were so friendly and gentle that the Nun could refuse her nothing. "At one bound, Doris, you've become a personage in Meriton," laughed Billy Foot. "She's a personage wherever she goes," said Andy in frank and affectionate admiration. The Nun gurgled happily. But where was her old friend Harry with his congratulations? He had greeted her, but not with much enthusiasm; he was now talking to the other girl--Miss Vintry--in a low voice, with a frown on his face; he looked weary and spent. She moved over to him and laid her hand on his arm; he started violently. "I'll never laugh at you about your speeches again, Harry. But, poor old fellow, how done up you look!" "Doing this sort of thing every night's pretty tiring." "Besides all the other things you have to do just now! I think I must come and stay at the Lion and look after you."