It was like a stab in the back, or a
trick to take unfair advantage; and the matter was made worse by this
allusion to a snare of Satan, which could mean nothing else but
Berenice herself. Maurice flushed hotly, but habit was strong in him,
and he cast down his eyes without reply.
"Have you heard that Mrs. Frostwinch is on her way home?" Father
Frontford went on.
"No."
"It is said that her faith-healing superstition has failed her, and she
is coming home to die."
"To die?" echoed Maurice.
He recalled Mrs. Frostwinch as he had seen her, gracious, high-bred,
apparently brilliantly well; and it appeared monstrously impossible
that death should be near her. She had seemed a woman who would defy
death, and live on simply by her own splendid will.
"So it is said," the Father assured him. "Do you know how important it
is to us to have her influence in the election?"
"I know that there are certain votes that she may influence, and that
she is in"--he almost said "your," but he caught himself in time--"our
interests."
"There are three and perhaps four votes which depend upon her. Three
are sure to go over to the other side if she is not able to stand
behind them.
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