"At least we are to be," Mr. Sheppard went on--"if rumor in Duke's-Keeton speaks the truth. I am not wrong in assuming that I have the honor of addressing the future Radical--I mean Liberal--candidate for that borough?" "Oh, that's it," Heron said carelessly. "Yes, yes: I didn't know that rumor had yet troubled herself about the matter so much as to speak of it truly or falsely. But of course, since you have heard it, Mr. Sheppard, it's no secret. I have some ideas that way, Miss Grey. I intend to try whether I can impress your townspeople. This gentleman, I suppose, is on the other side." "I am the other side," Mr. Sheppard said gravely. "I am to be the Conservative candidate--I was accepted by the party as the Conservative candidate, no matter who the Radical may be." "Well, Mr. Sheppard, we shall not be the less good friends I hope," Heron said cheerily. "I can't be expected to wish that the best man may win, for that would be to wish failure for myself; but I wish the better cause may win, and in that you will join me. Good morning, Miss Grey!" The room seemed to grow very chilly to Minola when his bright smile and sweet courteous tones were withdrawn and she was left with her old lover. There was not much in Sheppard's appearance to win her back to any interest in him. He did not compare advantageously with Victor Heron. When Heron left the room, the light seemed to have gone out; Heron was so fresh, so free, so sweet, and yet so strong, full of youth, and spirit, and manhood--a natural gentleman without the insipidity of the manners of society. Poor Augustus Sheppard was formal, constrained, and prosaic; he had not even the dignity of austerity. He was not self-sufficing: he was only self-sufficient. As he stood there he was awkward, and almost cowed. He seemed as if he were afraid of the girl, and Minola was woman enough to be angry with him because he seemed afraid of her. He was handsome, but in that commonplace sort of way which in a woman's eye is often worse than being ugly. Minola felt almost pitiless toward him, although the girl's whole nature was usually full of pity, for, as has already been said, she did not believe in his affection, and thought him a thorough sham. He stood awkwardly there, and she would not relieve him from his embarrassment by saying a word. "Well, Miss Grey," he began at last, "I suppose you hardly expected to see me." "I did not know you were in town, Mr. Sheppard." "I fear I am not very welcome," he said, with an uncomfortable smile; "but your mother particularly wished me to see you." "My mother, Mr. Sheppard?" Minola grew red with pain and anger. "I mean your stepmother, of course--the wife of your father." "Once the wife of my father; now the wife of somebody else." "Well, well, at all events the person who might be naturally supposed to have the best claim to some authority--or influence--influence let us say--over you."