"I have been thinking it over," he replied. "Months agone I made a vow that I would compel her to love me. People in Brunford say that I'm the kind of man who gets his way, and I vowed that by sheer strength I would conquer her, but I know it won't do now! I remember the look in her eyes when last we met. She's not the kind of woman whose love can be forced!"
"No woman's love can be forced," replied his mother. "It must always be won! Still, a lass loves a strong man and despises a weakling. Trust to me, Paul, trust to me!"
"I'll trust to myself, too," he said grimly. "But you're right, mother. I want a name to offer her, not only the name I've made, but the name I've inherited--or ought to inherit--and when I've got that, neither Ned Wilson nor any other man shall stand in my way!"
A few days later Paul entered the Mechanics' Institute, and, standing in the entrance hall, he saw a number of men he knew. One of them was young Wilson. Paul was about to pass into the reading-room, without speaking, when one of them called to him. "Ay, Stepaside," he said, "hast a' heard the news?"
"It seems that we may have another election on us," replied the man.
"Another election! What kind of an election?"
"Why, Parliamentary, of course. There are rumours that they are going to make a judge of Bolitho, and if they do, he'll have to resign his seat. A judge, you know, is supposed to be non-political. So it seems as though there'll be another fight. What do you feel about it?"
"I must know if the gossip is true first," replied Paul.
"There's not so much doubt about it," replied the other. "Ned Wilson here is bound to be in the know. Perhaps," added the man with a laugh, "Ned'll sign your nomination papers!"
"Or send out a circular without signing it!" said Paul. And everyone laughed as he spoke, because it was fully known what he meant.
"My dear fellow," retorted Wilson, "what you and your party do is nothing to me! If there is another election I shall have nothing to do with it. I am as fond of a fight as any man, and under certain circumstances I would even fight a man of your calibre, but there is no necessity for it now!"
Paul's face was pale to the lips. He hated a scene, hated the thought that his private affairs were being discussed in such a place. He could not help feeling that there was something vulgar about it all, and he in a moment of forgetfulness had yielded to what, had he been calmer, he would have resisted to the utmost. Still, his anger was aroused, and he saw that those who stood around were enjoying the situation.