to make other women want to. Just at present I have so many matters to
bother about that I can't throw myself into an imaginary position. I'd
break down and cry--I feel exactly like it--if I hadn't been this way
before and managed to pull through by the skin of my teeth. You see,
standing up before a crowd makes you feel so desperate and hemmed-in-
like that you have to fight, and somehow you manage to say something
with more or less point to it. If I don't think of something between
here and the meeting-house--don't talk, please! I'm awfully nervous. I
feel for the world as if I'm going to laugh and cry myself into
hysterics. If Warren Wilks were to see me now he'd have the biggest
argument for his side he could rake up. If I was running for office
and the returns went against me I suppose I'd lie flat down in the
road and kick like a spoilt child."

At this moment a buggy containing two women and a man passed. One of
the women, a fat motherly creature, glanced back. "Is that you,
Dolly?" she asked.

"Yes; how are you, Mrs. Timmons?"

"I'm as well as common, thanky, Dolly. Drive slower, Joe. What's the
use o' hurryin'? They can't do a thing till _she_ gits thar; besides,
I want to git at the straight o' this business. Say, Dolly, it ain't
true, is it, that you intend to stand up for women goin' to the
polls?"

Dolly swept Mostyn's expectant face with a startled look and then
fixed her eyes on the speaker.

"It is this way, Mrs. Timmons," she began, falteringly. "Warren Wilks