“To me,” remarked Mrs. Mumbray, with an air of great responsibility, “the mystery is too plain.  I don’t hint at the worst—­it would be uncharitable—­but the poor creature had undoubtedly made some discovery in that woman’s house which drove her to despair.”

Mrs. Tenterden gave a start.

“You really think so?  That has occurred to me.  Mrs. Wade’s fainting when she gave her evidence—­oh dear, oh dear!  I’m afraid there can be only one explanation.”

“That is our honourable member, my dear!” threw out Mrs. Mumbray.  “These are Radical principles—­in man and woman.  Why, I am told that scarcely a day passed without Mrs. Wade calling at the house.”

“And they tell me that he was frequently at hers!”

“That poor young wife!  Oh, it is shameful!  The matter oughtn’t to end here.  Something ought to be done.  If that man is allowed to keep his seat”——­

Many were the conjectures put forward and discussed throughout the day, but this of Mrs. Mumbray’s—­started of course in several quarters—­found readiest acceptance in Conservative circles.  Mrs. Wade was obviously the cause of what had happened—­no wonder she fainted at the inquest; no wonder she hid herself in her cottage!  When she ventured to come out, virtuous Polterham would let her know its mind.  Quarrier shared in the condemnation, but not even political animosity dealt so severely with him as social opinion did with Mrs. Wade.

Mr. Chown—­who would on no account have been seen in a place of worship—­went about all day among his congenial gossips, and scornfully contested the rumour that Quarrier’s relations with Mrs. Wade would not bear looking into.  At the house of Mr. Murgatroyd, the Radical dentist, he found two or three friends who were very anxious not to think evil of their victorious leader, but felt wholly at a loss for satisfactory explanations.  Mr. Vawdrey, the coal-merchant, talked with gruff discontent.

“I don’t believe there’s been anything wrong; I couldn’t think it—­ neither of him nor her.  But I do say it’s a lesson to you men who go in for Female Suffrage Now, this is just the kind of thing that ’ud always be happening.  If there isn’t wrong-doing, there’ll be wrong-speaking.  Women have no business in politics, that’s the plain moral of it.  Let them keep at home and do their duty.”

“Humbug!” cried Mr. Chown, who cared little for the graces of dialogue.  “A political principle is not to be at the mercy of party scandal.  I, for my part, have never maintained that women were ripe for public duties but Radicalism involves the certainty that they some day will be.  The fact of the matter is that Mrs. Quarrier was a woman of unusually feeble physique.  We all know—­those of us, at all events, who keep up with the science of the day—­that the mind is entirely dependent upon the body—­entirely!” He looked round, daring his friends to contradict this.