‘Then it’s so inconsistent,’ continued the lady, ’for—­you won’t abuse my confidence—­a more worldly girl I never knew.  In her heart I am convinced she thinks nothing so important as the doings of fashionable society.  She asked me, the first day she was here, how I lived without—­what was it?  I quite forget, but some paper or other which is full of what they call fashionable intelligence.  “My dear,” I said, “I know none of those people, and care not one grain of salt about their flutterings hither and thither, their marryings and givings ill marriage, their dresses and their—­never mind what.”  And what do you think she answered?  “But you will care when my name begins to be mentioned.”  And she went off with—­just so much—­toss of the head; you know how Beatrice does it.  Well, I suppose she really does to me an honour by coming down to my poor dull house; no doubt she’s very brilliant in the world I know nothing about.  I suppose you have seen her at her best?  She won’t waste her graces upon me, wise girl; only the—­you know the movement—­when I’ve shown my ignorance now and then.  Did you ever dance with her?’

‘Oh, yes; frequently.’

’I should like to see her in a ball-room.  Certainly there are few girls more handsome; I suppose that is admitted?’

‘Certainly; she queens it everywhere.’

’And her singing is lovely!  Do you know a thought I often have?  When I hear her singing it seems to me as if she were not quite the same person as at other times; she affects me, I can’t quite tell you how; it’s a sort of disenchantment to talk to her immediately afterwards.’

Wilfrid liked Mrs. Baxendale the more, the more he talked with her; in a day or two the confidence between them was as complete as if their acquaintance had been life-long.  With her husband, too, he came to be on an excellent footing.  Mr. Baxendale got him into the library when the ladies retired for the night, and expatiated for hours on the details of his electoral campaign.  At first Wilfrid found the subject tedious, but the energy and bright intelligence of the man ended by stirring his interest in a remarkable way.  It was new to Wilfrid to be in converse with such a strenuously practical mind; the element of ambition in him, of less noble ambition which had had its share in urging him to academic triumphs, was moved by sympathetic touches; he came to understand the enthusiasm which possessed the Liberal candidate, began to be concerned for his success, to feel the stirrings of party spirit.  He aided Baxendale in drawing up certain addresses for circulation, and learned the difference between literary elegance and the tact which gets at the ear of the multitude.  A vulgar man could not have moved him in this way, and Baxendale was in truth anything but vulgar.  Through his life he had been, on a small scale, a ruler of men, and had ruled with conspicuous success, yet he had preserved a native sincerity and wrought