‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. Go away,’ came fretfully from Prudence Sindlesham, and Melusine heaved a sigh as she looked towards the butler, who was making his stately way to the door. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. Mr.
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