Daily the cousins trot through dust and canter over roadside turf, away to hustings and polling-booths (with leather gloves and hunting-whips for the counties and kid gloves and riding-canes for the boroughs), and daily bring back reports on which Sir Leicester holds forth after dinner. Daily the restless men who have no occupation in life present the appearance of being rather busy. Daily Volumnia has a little cousinly talk with Sir Leicester on the state of the nation, from which Sir Leicester is disposed to conclude that Volumnia is a more reflecting woman than he had thought her.
"How are we getting on?" says Miss Volumnia, clasping her hands. "ARE we safe?"
The mighty business is nearly over by this time, and Doodle will throw himself off the country in a few days more. Sir Leicester has just appeared in the long drawing-room after dinner, a bright particular star surrounded by clouds of cousins.
"Volumnia," replies Sir Leicester, who has a list in his hand, "we are doing tolerably."
"Only tolerably!"

Daily the cousins trot away to hustings and polling-booths, and daily bring back reports on which Sir Leicester holds forth after dinner. Daily the restless men who have no occupation in life appear to be rather busy. Daily Volumnia has a little cousinly talk with Sir Leicester on the state of the nation, from which Sir Leicester concludes that Volumnia is a more reflecting woman than he had thought her.
"How are we getting on?" says Miss Volumnia, clasping her hands. "Are we safe?"
The mighty business is nearly over by this time. Sir Leicester has just appeared in the long drawing-room after dinner, a bright star surrounded by clouds of cousins.
"Volumnia," replies Sir Leicester, who has a list in his hand, "we are doing tolerably."
"Only tolerably! 