Lavery.
She could never forget that night of her misery when--good man that he
was!--he had brought her the message of his faith.
But the great melting moments of life are rare, and the tracts between
are full of small frictions. What an incredible sermon he had preached
on the preceding Sunday! That any minister of the national
church--representing all sorts and conditions of men--should think it
right to bring his party politics into the pulpit in that way! Unseemly!
unpardonable!
Her dark eyes flashed--and then clouded. She had walked home from the
sermon in a heat of wrath, had straightway sought out some blue ribbon,
and made Tory rosettes for herself and her dog. Muriel had laughed--had
been delighted to see her doing it.
But the rosettes were put away now--thrown into the bottom of a drawer.
She would never wear them.
The Vicar, it seemed, was no friend of Oliver's--would not vote for him,
and had been trying to induce the miners at Hartingfield to run a Labor
man. On the other hand, she understood that the Ferrier party in the
division were dissatisfied with him on quite other grounds: that they
reproached him with a leaning to violent and extreme views, and with a
far too lukewarm support of the leader of the party and the leader's
policy.
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