Midsummer's Eve

"It's rather put Lord Melbourne's nose out of joint," said Uncle Peter. ''But he doesn't seem to mind and I think all of us are glad to see the Queen happily settled.”

She had regained the popularity she had lost over the Flora Hastings and Bedchamber affairs.

"There is nothing the people like better than a wedding," said Uncle Peter. "A royal wedding makes the people forget the intrigues of the boudoir.”

There had been a hint of my having a season. I would have vehemently declined if the hint had been pursued. I think it was feared that the scandal which Uncle Peter had skilfully managed to divert might be resuscitated and it was -well known that the Queen's husband was, as Uncle Peter said, most definitely prudish.

! was sure Prince Albert would not have agreed with Uncle Peter's views about directing dubiously acquired money into good causes.

I heard of the alarming incident when an attempt had been made to assassinate the Queen. True, it was only a brainless potboy and he had been declared insane, but it -was sobering. The Queen behaved magnificently, of course, as most of her ancestors had in similar circumstances. But it was an indication that life could never be smooth for anyone.

In Mobury I got caught up in the excitement of electioneering, and it became to me a matter of the -utmost importance that Matthew should win the seat.

I sat on platforms listening to his speeches. He was turning out to be quite an effective orator. He burned with zeal when he spoke of the necessity of prison reform. He harrowed his audience with stories of what he had seen first-hand. He wanted the laws drastically changed; he wanted better conditions for the poor. He had visited the Mission run by his brother-in-law and his wife, and he knew what he was talking about. People listened to him and were moved.

Helena would sit on the platform smiling and admiring. She reminded me of Aunt Amaryllis; and when I thought of how their marriage had come about I was truly amazed.

She had grown into marriage-and if ever there had been a marriage of convenience that had been one. But now she was contented reminding me so much of her mother.

To see her thus set me longing for Rolf. What a fool I had been! I had allowed myself to turn away from happiness because of a dream ... and something which had happened long ago. He had said he was not there and I had chosen not to believe him. Then I had convinced myself that he wanted to marry me to get Cador.

Perhaps I should go back to Cornwall. I could go to Croft Cottage. I should see Rolf often. Perhaps we could talk about Midsummer's Eve and perhaps I could explain how deeply it had affected me, how I had lost my illusions, for I had seen ordinary people turn into monsters of cruelty. It had had a great effect on me. It had changed me from a trusting girl into a doubting woman.

If I could see Rolf ... if I could break through this barrier between us ... if we could be together ... if I could forget Midsummer's Eve ... if I could believe him ... if he again asked me to marry him now I no longer owned Cador ... how happy I should be.

I would go back. But not yet.

Helena sat there, her hands on her lap, obviously pregnant. Uncle Peter had said: "That's a good thing. It shows a nice family life.”

I thought of Joe Cresswell and wondered what he was doing now. This was where he would like to be. He had been very ambitious to follow in his father's footsteps and get into Parliament.

Uncle Peter had prevented that. I wondered afresh why I was so fond of Uncle Peter.

He was such a ruthless, amoral man. Yet he always had answers to explain his wickedness, and he never failed to show me another side which differed from the obvious one.

Election day came. There was an air of excitement in the town. I drove round in a carriage with Helena waving banners. "Vote for Matthew Hume. Your Member who cares for the Unfortunate.”

Uncle Peter came down in the afternoon. He expressed his pleasure with the manner in which the campaign had gone.

It was late that night when the results were declared. Matthew Hume was the elected Member of Parliament for Mobury.

What a celebration there was! Uncle Peter presided. We drank champagne to the success of the new Member, and he stood with Helena on one side and Uncle Peter on the other receiving congratulations. I felt quite carried away by the excitement, and for forgot my difficulties.

while Back in London, the question arose: What was I going to do? It had to be answered.

I went down to Frances's Mission. I was surprised at the difference in her premises.

She had a large house with many rooms in it. She told me that the old one was turned into a dormitory for the homeless.

Peterkin and she worked in harmony. They had the same ideals; they knew exactly what they wanted to do. Peterkin's gentle manner was a contrast to Frances's brisk one.

Each seemed to supply what the other lacked.

"Ours," Peterkin told me, "is a marriage of two minds in complete harmony with each other.”