She followed Lady Manorwater's lead and canvassed
vigorously, hoping to find distraction in the excitement of the fight.
But her efforts did not prosper. On one occasion she found herself in a
cottage on the Gledsmuir road, her hands filled with election
literature. A hale old man was sitting at his meal, who greeted her
cordially, and made her sit down while she stumbled through the usual
questions and exhortations. "Are ye no' bidin' at Glenavelin?" he
asked. "And have I no seen ye walking on the hill wi' Maister Lewie?"
When the girl assented, he asked, with the indignation of the
privileged, "Then what for are ye sac keen this body Stocks should win
in? If Maister Lewie's fond o' ye, wad it no be wiser--like to wark for
him? Poalitics! What should a woman's poalitics be but just the same
as her lad's? I hae nae opeenion o' this clash about weemen's
eddication." And with flaming cheeks the poor girl had risen and fled
from the old reactionary.
The incident burned into her mind, and she was wretched with the anomaly
of her position. A dawning respect for her rejected lover began to rise
in her heart. The first of his meetings which she attended had
impressed her with his skill in his own vocation. He had held those
people interested. He had spoken bluntly, strongly, honestly. To few
women is it given to distinguish the subtle shades of sincerity in
speech, and to the rule Alice was no exception.
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