Part 17 (1/2)
”The meetings?” she said, quickly. ”You mean that?”
”Yes--the meetings. I have just seen the placard in the village.”
”Well?” Her loveliness in defiance dazzled him, but he held on stoutly.
”You said nothing to me about these meetings the other day.”
”You never asked me!”
He paused a moment.
”No--but was it quite--quite fair to me--to let me suppose that the drawing-room meeting at Maumsey, which you kindly gave up, was the only meeting you had in view?”
He saw her breath fluttering.
”I don't know what you supposed, Mr. Winnington! I said nothing.”
”No. But you let me draw an inference--a mistaken inference.
However--let that be. Can I not persuade you--now--to give up the Latchford meeting, and any others of the same kind you may have ahead?”
She flamed at him.
”I refuse to give them up!” she said, setting her teeth. ”I have as much right to my views as you, Mr. Winnington! I am of full age, and I intend to work for them.”
”Setting fire to houses--which is what your society is advocating--and doing--hardly counts as 'views,'” he said, with sudden sternness.
”Risking the lives, or spoiling the property of one's fellow countrymen, is not the same thing as political argument.”
”It's _our_ argument--” she said pa.s.sionately.--”The men who are denying us the vote understand nothing else!”
The slightest humorous quiver in Winnington's strong mouth enraged her still further. But he spoke with most courteous gravity.
”Then I can't persuade you to give up these meetings? I should of course make no objection whatever, if these were ordinary Suffrage meetings. But the Society you are going to represent and collect money for is a Society that exists _to break the law_. And its members have--just lately--come conspicuously into collision with the law. Your father would have protested, and I am bound to protest--in his name.”
”I cannot give them up.”
He was silent a moment.
”If that is so”--he said at last--”I must do my best to protect you.”
”I don't want any protection!”
”I am a magistrate, as well as your guardian. You must allow me to judge. There is a very bitter feeling abroad, after these--outrages--of the last few days. The village where you are going to speak has some rowdy elements--drawn from the brickfields near it. You will certainly want protection. I shall see that you get it.”
He spoke with decision. Delia bit her lip.
”We prefer to risk our lives,” she said at last. ”I mean--there isn't any risk!--but if there were--our lives are nothing in comparison with the cause!”
”You won't expect your friends to agree with you,” he said drily; then, still holding her with an even keener look, he added--