we two-第55章

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hem　was　for　Erica。　　She　at　once　recognized　Mr。　Bircham's　writing；　and　a　new　pang　of　disappointment　shot　through　her；　though　she　had　really　lost　all　hope　on　the　previous　day。　　This　very　speedy　communication　could　only　mean　that　his　mind　had　been　practically　made　up　before。　　She　began　to　think　of　her　next　chance；　of　the　next　quarter　she　must　try；　and　slowly　opened　the　unwelcome　letter。　　But　in　a　moment　she　had　sprung　to　her　feet　in　an　ecstasy　of　happiness。

〃Oh；　father！　　Oh；　Tom！　　He　will　have　me！〃

Raeburn　looked　up　from　his　correspondence；　and　together　they　read　Mr。　Bircham's　letter。　　It　was　quite　as　business…like　as　he　himself　had　been　at　the　interview。

〃Dear　Madame；　Having　fully　considered　the　matter；　we　are　prepared　to　offer　you　a　place　on　our　staff。　　The　work　required　was　explained　to　you　yesterday。　　For　this　we　offer　a　salary　of　200　pounds　per　annum。　　Should　you　signify　your　acceptance　of　these　terms；　we　will　send　you　our　usual　form　of　agreement。　　I　am　yours　faithfully；　Jacob　Bircham。　　〃To　Miss　Raeburn。〃

〃Commend　me　to　people　who　don't　raise　one's　expectations！〃　said　Erica；　rapturously。　　〃Three　cheers　for　my　dear；　stiff　old　editor！〃

So　that　anxiety　was　over；　and　Erica　was　most　thankful　to　have　such　a　load　taken　off　her　mind。　　The　comfort　of　it　helped　her　through　a　very　trying　summer。


CHAPTER　XXIII。　Erica　to　the　Rescue

Isabel：　I　have　spirit　to　do　anything　that　appears　not　foul　in　the　truth　of　my　spirit。

Duke：　Virtue　is　bold；　and　goodness　never　fearful。　Measure　for　Measure

It　was　the　first　of　September。　　Watering　places　were　crowded　with　visitors；　destruction　had　begun　among　the　partridges；　and　a　certain　portion　of　the　hard…working　community　were　taking　their　annual　holiday。

Raeburn；　whose　holidays　were　few　and　far　between；　had　been　toiling　away　all　through　the　summer　months　in　town。　　This　evening；　as　he　sat　in　his　stifling　little　study；　he　had　fallen　into　a　blank　fit　of　depression。　　He　could　neither　work　nor　read。　　Strong　as　his　nature　was；　it　was　not　always　proof　against　this　grim　demon；　which　avenged　itself　on　him　for　overtasking　his　brain；　shortening　his　hours　of　sleep；　and　in　other　ways　sacrificing　himself　to　his　work。　　Tonight；　however；　there　was　reason　for　his　depression；　for　while　he　sat　fighting　his　demon　at　home；　Erica　had　gone　to　Charles　Osmond's　church　it　was　the　evening　of　her　baptism。

Of　course　it　was　the　necessary　sequence　of　the　confession　she　had　made　a　few　months　before；　and　Raeburn　had　long　known　that　it　was　inevitable；　but　none　the　less　did　he　this　evening　suffer　more　acutely　than　he　had　yet　suffered；　realizing　more　fully　his　child's　defection　　The　private　confession　had　startled；　shocked；　grieved　him　inexpressibly；　but　the　public　profession；　with　its　sense　of　irrevocableness；　filled　his　heart　with　a　grief　for　which　he　could　find　no　single　ray　of　comfort。

Erica's　brave　endurance　of　all　the　trials　and　discomforts　involved　in　her　change　of　faith　had　impressed　him　not　a　little；　and　even　when　most　hurt　and　annoyed　by　her　new　views；　he　had　always　tried　to　shield　her；　but　it　had　been　a　hard　summer；　and　the　loss　of　the　home　unity　had　tried　him　sorely。

Moreover；　the　comparative　quiet　of　the　last　year　was　now　ended。　　A　new　foe　had　arisen　in　the　person　of　a　certain　retired　cheesemonger；　who　had　sworn　war　to　the　knife　against　the　apostle　of　atheism。　　Unfortunately；　Mr。　Pogson's　war　was　not　undertaken　in　a　Christ…like　spirit；　his　zeal　was　fast　changing　into　personal　animosity；　and　he　had　avowed　the　he　would　crush　Raeburn；　though　it　should　cost　him　the　whole　of　his　fortune。　　This　very　day　he　had　brought　into　action　the　mischievous　and　unfair　blasphemy　laws；　and　to　everybody's　amazement；　had　commenced　a　prosecution　against　Raeburn　for　a　so…called　〃blasphemous　libel〃　in　one　of　his　recent　pamphlets。　　An　attack　on　the　liberty　of　the　press　was　to　Raeburn　what　the　sound　of　the　trumpet　is　to　the　war　horse。　　Yet；　now　that　the　first　excitement　was　over；　he　had　somehow　sunk　into　a　fit　of　black　depression。　　How　was　it？　　Was　his　strength　failing？　　Was　he　growing　old　unfit　for　his　work？

He　was　roused　at　length　by　a　knock　at　his　door。　　The　servant　entered　with　a　number　of　letters。　　He　turned　them　over　mechanically　until　some　handwriting　which　reminded　him　of　his　mother's　made　him　pause。　　The　letter　bore　the　Greyshot　postmark；　it　must　be　from　his　sister　Isabel。　　He　opened　it　with　some　eagerness；　there　had　been　no　communication　between　them　since　the　time　of　his　wife's　death；　and　though　he　had　hoped　that　the　correspondence　once　begun　might　have　been　continued；　nothing　more　had　come　of　it。　　The　letter　proved　short；　and　not　altogether　palatable。　　It　began　with　rejoicings　over　Erica's　change　of　views；　the　report　of　which　had　reached　Mrs。　Fane…Smith。　　It　went　on　to　regret　that　he　did　not　share　in　the　change。　　Raeburn's　lip　curled　as　he　read。　　Then　came　a　request　that　Erica　might　be　allowed　to　visit　her　relations；　and　the　letter　ended　with　a　kindly…meant　but　mistaken　offer。　　

〃My　husband　and　I　both　feel　that　there　are　many　objections　to　Erica's　remaining　in　her　present　home。　　We　should　be　much　pleased　if　she　would　live　with　us　at　any　rate；　until　she　has　met　with　some　situation　which　would　provide　her　with　a　suitable　and　permanent　residence。〃

The　offer　was　not　intended　to　be　insulting；　but　undoubtedly；　to　such　a　father　as　Raeburn；　it　was　a　gross　insult。　　His　eyes　flashed　fire；　and　involuntarily　he　crushed　the　letter　in　his　hand；　then；　a　little　ashamed　of　the　passionate　act；　he　forced　himself　deliberately　to　smooth　it　out　again；　and；　folding　it　accurately；　put　it　in　his　pocket。　　A　note　for　Erica　remained　in　the　envelope；　he　placed　it　on　the　mantel　piece；　then　fell　back　in　his　chair　again　and　thought。

After　all；　might　not　the　visit　to　Greyshot　be　a　very　good　thing　for　her？　　Of　course　she　would　never　dream　of　living　with　her　aunt；　would　indeed　be　as　angry　at　the　proposal　as　he　had　been。　　But　might　not　a　visit　of　two　or　three　weeks　open　her　eyes　to　her　new　position；　and　prove　to　her　that　among　Christians　such　people　as　the　Osmonds　were　only　in　the　minority！　　He　knew　enough　of　society　to　be　able　to　estimate　the　position　it　would　accord　to　Erica。　　He　knew　that　her　sensitiveness　would　be　wounded　again　and　again；　that；　that　her　honesty　would　be　shocked；　her　belief　in　the　so…called　Christian　world　shaken。　　Might　not　all　this　be　salutary？　　And　yet　he　did　not　like　the　thought；　he　could　not　bear　sending　her　out　alone　to　fight　her　own　battles；　could　not　endure　the　consciousness　that　she　was　bearing　his　reproach。　　Oh；　why　had　this　miserable；　desolating　change　ever　occurred？　　At　this　very　moment　she　was　making　public　profession　of　a　faith　which　could　only　place　her　in　the　most　trying　of　positions；　at　this　very　moment　she　was　pledging　herself　to　a　life　of　bondage　and　trouble；　while　he；　standing　aside；　could　see　all　the　dangers　and　difficulties　of　her　future；　and　could　do　absolutely　nothing！

It　reminded　him　of　one　of　the　most　horrible　moments　of　his　life。　　Walking　up　Regent　Street　one　afternoon；　years　ago；　Erica；　walking　with　Mrs。　Craigie　on　the　opposite　side；　had　caught　sight　of　him；　and　regardless　of　the　fourfold　chain　of　carriages；　had　rushed　across　to　him　with　the　fearless　daring　of　a　six…year…old　child；　to　whom　the　danger　of　horses'　hoofs　was　a　mere　nothing　when　compared　with　the　desire　to　get　a　walk　with　her　father。　　His　heart　beat　quicker　even　now　as　he　thought　of　the　paralyzing　dread　of　long　ago；　nor　had　Miss　Erica　ever　been　scolded　for　her　loving　rashness；　in　his　relief　he　had　been　unable　to　do　anything　but　clasp　the　little　hand　in　his　as　though　nothing　should　ever　part　them　again。

But　her　loving　disregard　of　all　danger　and　difficulty　was　no　longer　inspired　by　love　of　him；　but　by　love　of　what　Raeburn　considered　a　myth　and　a　delusion。

In　that　lay　the　real　sting。　　He　courage；　her　suffering；　all　seemed　to　him　wasted；　altogether　on　the　wrong　side。　　Once　more　black　gloom　fell　upon　him。　　The　room　grew　dusk　then　dark；　but　still　he　remained　motionless。

Again　he　was　interrupted　by　a　knock　at　his　door。

〃Signor　Civita　wished　to　speak　to　him。〃

He　braced　himself　up　for　an　interview　with　some　stranger；　and　in　walked　a　foreigner　wrapped　in　a　long　cloak；　and　looking　exceedingly　like　a　stage　brigand。