Free The Caxley Chronicles by Miss Read

above the square. The upturned faces grew suddenly still, and the noise of a distant train could be clearly heard chuffing its way rhythmically out of Caxley Station a mile away.
    The three candidates stood selfconsciously beside the scarlet-clad Mayor.
    'John Emmanuel Abbott, two hundred and thirty-four,' read the Mayor sonorously. There was a mingled sound of cheering and booing. The little schoolteacher preserved a dignified and tight-lipped silence and bowed slightly.
    'Septimus Howard, six thousand, nine hundred and two.' More cheers arose, hastily checked as the Mayor lifted his paper again.
    'Bertram Lewis North, four thousand, seven hundred and twenty-two,' intoned the Mayor.
    Now the cheering broke out anew, and when Septimus Howard, elected once more, stepped forward shyly, someone began to clap and shout: 'Good old Sep!' It was taken up by almost all the crowd, a spontaneous gesture of affection which was as touching as it was unexpected.
    Sep bowed his thanks, spoke briefly of the honour done him, and promised to do his best to be worthy of the confidence shown in him. He turned to shake the hands of his opponents, first that of John Abbott, and then Bender's.
    At that moment, their hands tightly clasped, Sep experienced a shock. Bender's smile was as broad as ever, his complexion as ruddy, but it was the expression in his eyes, the look of hurt
wonderment, which shook Sep so profoundly. For the first time in his life, Sep felt pity for the great giant of a man before him, and, as well as pity, a new deep and abiding peace.
    Amidst the tumult of the crowd and the dazzle of the lights, Sep became conscious of one outstanding truth. Within him, born suddenly of this strange new feeling, was an inner calm and strength. Somehow, Sep knew, it would remain there, and would colour his relationship towards Bender in the years ahead.

7. Love Affairs
    L IKE MANY other bluff, hearty men who seem to ride boldly through life, Bender was easily upset. The outcome of the election was a considerable shock to him. That his fellow townsmen preferred Sep's services to his own was particularly humiliating. Not that Bender disparaged Sep's industry and sincerity, but he could not help feeling a certain condescending amusement at what he called 'Sep's bible-thumping' attitude to life. As a lifelong church-goer, Bender tended to underestimate the strength of Methodism in Caxley, and though this did not influence the outcome entirely, yet he could not help realising that many chapel-goers had voted for Sep. His easy tolerance of nonconformists now suffered a change. Smarting secretly from his hurt, Bender was inclined to view the chapel-goers with a little more respect and, it must be admitted, with a twinge of sourness.
    It was not surprising, therefore, that he was unusually waspish when Hilda told him of her fears about Leslie Howard and Winifred.
    'I'm beginning to think,' Hilda said, 'that there's more to it than just being friendly. Our Winnie's at a silly age, let's face it, and Leslie's had plenty of practice turning young girls' heads.'
    'Probably nothing in it,' replied Bender, pacifying womanly doubts automatically. 'But we certainly don't want our girl mixed up with the chapel lot.'
    'It's not "being mixed up with the chapel lot", as you call it,' retorted Hilda, with unwonted spirit, 'but Leslie's been mixed up with too many girls already! Besides,' she continued, 'there are better fish in the sea for our Winnie than Sep Howard's boy.'
    'You've no call to speak like that about Sep,' admonished Bender, secretly regretting his hasty disparagement of the Howards' religion.
    'But surely you don't want anything to come of this?' demanded Hilda, putting down her crochet work as though about to do battle. Bender began to retreat. He had enough worries with the uncertainties of the business and the shock of the election without adding this problem to the list. He took a man's way out.
    'You have a quiet word with Winnie, my dear.