each other and began to talk about politics"-- The sentence dwindled
into a dubious smile.

"Do," she urged. "I really think you could influence him for good."

Leigh was less sure of it, and the other two men returned before he had
committed himself to a plan that seemed, even when seen under her
influence, to be little short of quixotic.

During the walk home he tried Cardington on the subject of Emmet, but
found him uncommunicative, almost brusque, in his reticence. Leigh
suspected that the subject might be a sore one with him, and that he
thoroughly disapproved of Miss Wycliffe's odd charity. When a talker
is silent, his silence has the tactile quality of Egyptian darkness,
and so it now appeared in Cardington. Concerning Miss Wycliffe herself
they made no comment, doubtless because they were thinking of her so
intently. Leigh reviewed every moment he had passed in her company,
recalling each look and word. He was impressed now, more than he had
been at the time, with the intensity of her interest in the election,
and it occurred to him that to do as she desired, or at least to
attempt it, would establish a claim upon her regard. This was his
opportunity. If he desired to win her favour, he must regard her wish
as mandatory. How much he desired to win it he did not try to conceal
from himself.

His frankness extended even farther. When he recalled that it was the
bishop and not his daughter who had shown humanity at the wedding, he
was impressed by her curious insensibility. It seemed to him
peculiarly feminine to take an interest in such a scene, and most of
the women he knew would have looked on with tremulous sympathy. Was