If a local lodge was in need of speakers, he exercised his arts of persuasion and sent them down in trainloads.

He visited personally as many lodges as his other work permitted.

In fact, he was raising the League from a jejune experiment into a flourishing organization.

To his secret delight, old Lord Watford resigned the chairmanship owing to the infirmities of old age, and Lord Harbury, a young and energetic peer whom Paul had recently driven into the ranks of the Vice-Presidents, was elected in his stead.
Paul felt the future of the League was assured.
With a real Member of Parliament to preside, a real dean to propose the vote of thanks, another Member of Parliament and two ex-mayors of the borough to add silent dignity to the proceedings, well-known ladies, including, now, a real Princess to grace the assembly, this meeting of the Hickney Heath Lodge was the most important occasion on which Paul had appeared in public.
"I hope you won't be nervous," said Miss Winwood, on the morning of the meeting.
"I nervous ?" He laughed.

"What is there to be nervous about ?" "I've had over twenty years' experience of public speaking, and I'm always nervous when I get UP." "It's only because you persistently refuse to realize what a wonderful woman you are," he said affectionately.
"And you," she teased, "are you always realizing what a wonderful man you are ?" He cried with his sunny boldness: "Why not?
It's faith in oneself and one's destiny that gets things done." The drill hall was full.