As the door closed behind Mr. Gould, Marian flung herself into an easy-chair, and the bitter tears of rage welled up into her eyes. So it was destined that this man was to cross her path to her detriment for the rest of her life. Oh, what terrible shame and humiliation to think of him winning the victory from them, more especially after her interview with him, and the avowal of her intense desire to be successful in the matter! There could be no doubt about the result. Mr. Gould was understood, she had heard, to be in general inclined to take a hopeful view of affairs; but his verdict on the probable issue of the Brocksopp election was unmistakably dolorous. What a bitter draught to swallow, what frightful mortification to undergo! What could be done? It would be impolitic to tell Mr. Creswell of his agent's fears; and even if he were told of them, he was just the man who would more than ever insist on fighting until the very last, and would not imagine that there was any disgrace in being beaten after gallant combat by an honourable antagonist. And there was no possible way out of it, unless--great Heaven, what a horrible thought!--unless he were to die. That would settle it; there would be no defeat for him then, and she would be left free, rich, and with the power to---- She must not think of anything so dreadful. The noise of wheels on the gravel, the carriage at the door, and her husband descending. How wearily he drags his limbs down the steps, what lassitude there is in every action, and how wan his cheeks are! He is going towards the drawing-room on the ground-floor, and she hastens to meet him there. "What is the matter? Are you ill?" "Very--very ill; but pleased to see you, to get back home." This with a touch of the old manner, and in the old voice. "Very ill, Marian; weak, and down, and depressed. I can't stand it, Marian; I feel I can't." "What is it that seems too much for you?" "All this worry and annoyance, this daily contact with all these horrible people. I must give it up, Marian; I must give it up!" "You must give what up, dear?" "This election. All the worry of it, the preliminary worry, has been nigh to kill me, and I must have no more of it!" "Well, but think----" "I have thought, and I'm determined; that is, if you think so too. I'll give it up, I'll retire; anything to have done with it!" "But what will people say----?" "What people, who have a right to say anything?" "Your committee, I mean--those who have been working for you so earnestly and so long." "I don't care what they say. My health is more important than anything else--and you ought to think so, Marian!"