Norah stared harder than ever. This sounded rather perilously like the story of a Nihilist Plot which she had read in a shilling shocker some weeks before. She had visions of bomb explosions and wholesale arrests, and, as ever, the thought of John obtruded itself into the foreground of her mind. What would John think if Miss Mellor were arrested, and gave the name of Norah Boyce as her chosen friend and confidante? "Number Nine, for _what_?" she gasped nervously, and Miss Mellor was hurried into unthinking reply: "For screaming--I mean protesting. The first eight champions will raise their voices in rotation. They will be silenced, probably ejected. Then it will be My Turn." "Ejected!" Norah looked scared. "Turned out. Oh-h! How dreadful! They will seize hold of you--men will seize hold of you, and pull and drag. They will pinch your arms... It must be horrid to be pinched!" "What would have become of the world if other great reformers had ceased their struggles through dread of being pinched?" demanded Miss Mellor sternly; and Norah felt snubbed, and looked it. She had no courage left for further argument. On the next Friday afternoon Norah took her way to the flat to accompany her fighting employer on the walk abroad which should invigorate her for the evening's fray, but to her dismay found the good lady stretched upon the sofa, very flushed as to face, and husky as to voice. "It is quinsy," she announced. "I'm subject to it. I felt it coming on, but I would not give in. I have gargled and fomented all morning, but it is too late. I couldn't scream to save my life. It's a terrible, terrible disappointment, but I am thankful that I need not upset the Committee's plans. You shall take my place!" "I?" cried Norah shrilly. "No, no--I can't! I couldn't--I wouldn't-- not for anything in the whole wide world! Call out before a whole meeting, have them all staring at me, strange men catching hold of me, dragging my sleeves, crushing my hat--_never_! I'd sooner die!" "Then," croaked Miss Mellor hoarsely, "I shall go myself!" And from this point she refused to budge. She was ill; in the natural course of events she would grow worse; if she went out into the damp and the cold, and endured the excitement of a crowded political meeting, she would most certainly be very ill indeed; but she had promised; she could not disappoint the Committee at the eleventh hour; she had no energy to seek further for a substitute. Then her voice took a pathetic turn, and she sighed feebly. "I have been kind to you, Norah. I have tried to be your friend. Danvers (the maid) would accompany you to the Hall. You have nothing to do but to sit still and interrupt when your turn arrives. How can you be so selfish and unkind?"