ever taken place in the House of Commons.' A voice in the crowd was raised, but before the jeer was out Mrs. Chisholm had flung down her last ringing sentences. 'There were _others_ up there in the little pen that night!--women, too--but women with enough decency to be revolted, and with enough character to resent such treatment as the members down there on the floor of the House were giving to our measure. Though the women who ought to have felt it most sat there cowed and silent, I am proud to think there were other women who cried out, "_Shame!_" Yes, yes,' she interrupted the interrupters, 'those women were dragged away to prison, and all the world was aghast. But I tell you that cry was the beginning of a new chapter in human history. It began with "Shame!" but it will end with "Honour."' The old newsvendor led the applause. 'Janet! That woman never spat in a policeman's face.' 'Pull down your veil,' was the lady's sharp response. 'Quick----' 'My----' 'Yes, pull it down, and don't turn round.' A little dazed by the red-hot torrent the woman on the plinth was still pouring down on the people, Vida's mind at the word 'veil,' so peremptorily uttered, reverted by some trick of association to the Oriental significance of that mark in dress distinctively the woman's. 'Why should I pull down my veil?' she answered abstractedly. 'They're looking this way. Don't turn round. Come, come.' With a surprising alacrity and skill Mrs. Fox-Moore made her way out of the throng. Vida, following, yet looking back, heard-- 'Now, I want you men to give a fair hearing to a woman who----' 'Vida, _don't_ look! Mercifully, they're too much amused to notice us.' Disobeying the mandate, the younger woman's eyes fell at last upon the figures of two young men hovering on the outer circle. The sun caught their tall, glossy hats, played upon the single flower in the frock coat, struck on the eyeglass, and gleamed mockingly on the white teeth of the one who smiled the broadest as they both stood, craning their necks, whispering and laughing, on the fringe of the crowd. 'Why, it's Dick Farnborough--and that friend of his from the Austrian Embassy.' Vida pulled down her veil. CHAPTER VIII