But Laura hesitated and grew red as a peony. In view of her Ladyship’s graciousness, it seemed churlish to refuse to join; but what would her father, a declared Liberal in politics and an opponent of all that the Primrose League stood for, say if she went over to the enemy?

And she herself did not really wish to become a member; she never did wish to do what everybody else was doing, which showed she had a contrary nature, she had often been told, but it was really because her thoughts and tastes ran upon different lines than those of the majority.

The lady looked her in the face, her expression showing more interest than formerly. Perhaps she noticed her embarrassment, and Laura, who admired her sincerely and wanted to be liked by her, was about to cave in when “Dare to be a Daniel!” said an inward voice. It was a catchword of the moment derived from the Salvation Army hymn, “Dare to be a Daniel. Dare to stand alone,” and was more often used as a laughing excuse for refusing a glass of beer in company or adopting a new style of hairdressing than seriously as a support to conscience; but it served.

“But we are Liberals at home,” said Laura apologetically, and, at that, the lady smiled and said kindly: “Well, in that case, you had better ask your parents’ permission before joining,” and that was the end of the matter as far as she was concerned. But it was a landmark in Laura’s mental development. Afterwards she laughed at herself for daring to be a Daniel on so small a matter. The mighty Primrose League, with its overwhelming membership, was certainly not in need of another small member. Her Ladyship, she realized, had asked her to join out of kindness, in order that she might qualify for a ticket for the approaching celebrations, and had probably already forgotten the episode. It was better to say clearly and simply just what one meant, whoever one was talking to, and always to remember that what one said was probably of no importance whatever to one’s listener.