difficulty. Then she whispered to her daughter:

"He hopes to get his chance about seven; if not then, after dinner."

"I really don't think I can stay so long," said the girl, plaintively.
"It's dreadfully tiring."

"Go when you like," said her mother, indifferently. "Send the car back for
me."

She resumed her intent listening just as a smart sally from the speaker
below sent a tumultuous wave of cheers and counter-cheers through his
audience.

"He can be such a buffoon, can't he?" said the stout lady in the corner to
her companion, as she yawned again. She had scarcely tried to lower
her voice. Her remark was, at any rate, quite audible to her next-door
neighbor, who again threw her a swift, stabbing look, of no more avail,
however, than its predecessors.

"Who is that lady in the corner--do you mind telling me?"

The query was timidly whispered in the ear of Marcia Coryston by a veiled
lady, who on the departure of some other persons had come to stand beside
her.

"She is Mrs. Prideaux." said Miss Coryston, stiffly.

"The wife of the Prime Minister!" The voice showed emotion.