Chapter 5 - Page 2

pea-jacket, a skirt which just{?} passed her knees and a
pair of thick gaiters of the same material. She had a
great bundle of red papers under her arm, while
Charles, who sat behind her clad in Norfolk jacket and
knickerbockers, bore a similar roll protruding from
either pocket. Even as they watched, the pair eased up,
the lady sprang off, impaled one of her bills upon the
garden railing of an empty house, and then jumping on to
her seat again was about to hurry onwards when her nephew
drew her attention to the two gentlemen upon the
footpath.

"Oh, now, really I didn't notice you," said she,
taking a few turns of the treadle and steering the
machine across to them. "Is it not a beautiful morning?"

"Lovely," answered the Doctor. "You seem to be very
busy."

"I am very busy." She pointed to the colored paper
which still fluttered from the railing. "We have been
pushing our propaganda, you see. Charles and I have been
at it since seven o'clock. It is about our meeting. I
wish it to be a great success. See!" She smoothed out
one of the bills, and the Doctor read his own name in
great black letters across the bottom.

"We don't forget our chairman, you see. Everybody is
coming. Those two dear little old maids opposite, the
Williamses, held out for some time; but I have their
promise now. Admiral, I am sure that you wish us well."

"Hum! I wish you no harm, ma'am."

"You will come on the platform?"

"I'll be---- No, I don't think I can do that."

"To our meeting, then?"

"No, ma'am; I don't go out after dinner."

"Oh yes, you will come. I will call in if I may, and
chat it over with you when you come home. We have not
breakfasted yet. Goodbye!" There was a whir of wheels,
and the yellow cloud rolled away down the road again. By
some legerdemain the Admiral found that he was clutching
in his right hand one of the obnoxious bills. He
crumpled it up, and threw it into the roadway.

"I'll be hanged if I go, Walker," said he, as be
resumed his walk. "I've never been hustled into doing a
thing yet, whether by woman or man."

"I am not a betting man," answered the Doctor, "but
I rather think that the odds are in favor of your going."

The Admiral had hardly got home, and had just seated
himself in his dining-room, when the attack upon him was
renewed. He was slowly and lovingly unfolding the
Times preparatory to the long read which led up to
luncheon, and had even got so far as to fasten his golden
pince-nez on to his thin, high-bridged nose, when he
heard a crunching of gravel, and, looking over the top of
his paper, saw Mrs. Westmacott coming up the garden walk.
She was still dressed in the singular