there he won't see me and buy a paper. I should like to interest him in
the Cause. And I daren't speak to him." She flushed. Though Mr. Philip's
claw had not done all the hurt it hoped, it had yet mauled its victim
cruelly. "That would look bold."

But in the nick of time his eyes fell on her. He gave a start of
surprise and said in his kind, insolent voice:

"Good morning. So you're a Suffragette."

She was pleased to be publicly recognised by such a splendid person, and
answered shyly; but caught a glint in his eyes which reminded her that
she wasn't perfectly sure that he really had thought she was thinking of
the Argentine when she had proposed writing to Brazil in Spanish. Was it
possible that he was not being entirely respectful to her? She would not
have that, for she was splendid herself too, though the idiot world had
given her no chance to show it. She pulled herself together, knitted her
brows, and looked as much like Mr. Gladstone as could be managed with
such a pliable profile.

"Sell me one of your papers," he said. "No, don't bother about the
change. The Cause can let itself go on the odd elevenpence. Well, I
think you're wonderful to stand out here in this awful weather with all
these blighters going by."

"When one is wrapped up in a great Cause," replied Ellen superbly, "one
hardly notices these minor discomforts. Will you not take a ticket for
the meeting next Friday at the Synod Hall? Mrs. Ormiston and Mrs. Mark
Lyle are speaking. The tickets are half-a-crown and a shilling. But
you'll find the shilling ones quite good, for they're both exceptionally