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The　fashionable　world　felt　a　sort　of　uncomfortableness。　　The　news　reached　them　at　their　laziest　time　of　year；　they　came　in　from　shooting　parties　to　read　the　account　in　the　papers；　they　discussed　it　in　ball　rooms　and　at　evening　parties　at　Brighton　and　Greyshot　and　the　other　autumnal　resorts。　　〃So　he　was　dead！　　Well；　really　they　were　tired　of　hearing　his　name！　　It　was　rather　horrible；　certainly；　that　his　daughter　should　have　seen　it　all；　but　such　infamous　creatures　as　Raeburn　had　no　business　to　have　daughters。　　No　doubt　she　would　stand　it　very　well　anything；　you　know；　for　a　little　notoriety。　　Such　people　lived　for　notoriety。　　Of　course　the　papers　had　put　in　a　lot　of　twaddle　that　he　had　said　on　his　death　bed　'always　had　tried　to　work　entirely　for　the　good　of　humanity；'　and　that　sort　of　nonsense。　　This　coffee　ice　is　excellent。　　Let　me　get　you　another；〃　after　which　the　subject　would　be　dropped；　and　the　speakers　would　return　to　the　ball　room　to　improve　upon　Raeburn's　life；　which　they　presumed　so　severely　to　criticize；　by　a　trois　temps　enlivened　by　a　broad　flirtation。

Here　and　there　a　gleam　of　good　was　effected　inasmuch　as　some　of　the　excessively　narrow　began　to　see　what　narrowness　leads　to。　　Mr。　Cuthbert；　coming　home　from　his　annual　Swiss　tour；　was　leaning　back　sleepily　in　a　first…class　carriage　at　the　Folkestone　station　when　the　voice　of　a　newsboy　recalled　him　to　the　every…day　world　with　a　slight　shock。　　There　was　the　usual　list　of　papers；　he　was　sleepy　and　thought　he　would　not　get　one；　but　then　came　the　loud　voice；　not　a　couple　of　yards　from　his　ear；　〃Death　of　Mr。　Raeburn！　　Death　of　Luke　Raeburn　this　da…ay！〃

Mr。　Cuthbert　had　his　head　out　of　the　window　in　a　moment。

〃Here；　paper！〃

〃These　boys　will　call　anything　to　sell　their　papers；〃　he　remarked　to　his　companion；　〃I　dare　say　it's　nothing　more　than　a　rumor。〃

〃Precious　good　thing　for　the　country　if　it　was　true；〃　replied　the　other；　a　young　fellow　of　two…and…twenty　who　dawdled　through　life　upon　an　income　of　5；000　pounds　a　year；　and　found　it　quite　possible　to　combine　the　enjoyment　of　lax　living　with　the　due　expression　of　very　orthodox　sentiments。

Mr。　Cuthbert　did　not　answer；　his　eye　was　traveling　down　a　column　of　the　newspaper；　and　he　felt　a　curious　pricking　of　remorse　as　he　read。　　He　had　once　been　rude　to　Erica　Raeburn；　he　had　all　his　life　retailed　dubious　stories　about　her　father；　knowing　all　the　time　that　had　any　one　believed　such　stories　of　himself　upon　such　shaky　evidence；　he　would　have　used　very　strong　language　about　them。　　And　now　this　fellow　was　dead！　　Curiously　enough；　Mr。　Cuthbert；　who　had　many　times　remarked　that　〃Raeburn　ought　to　be　shut　up；　or　better　still；　hung；〃　was　now　the　one　to　wish　him　alive　again。　　Ugh！　　It　was　a　horrible　story。　　He　quite　shivered　as　he　read　the　account　of　those　days　of　torture。

But　in　a　room　at　the　Park　Hotel；　Ashborough；　two　very　different　men　were　discussing　the　same　subject。　　Mr。　Fane…Smith；　with　all　his　faults；　had　always　been　well…intentioned；　and　though　frightful　harm　may　be　done　by　people　with　good　intentions；　they　can　never　stand　upon　the　same　level　as　those　who　wilfully　and　maliciously　offend。　　All　too　plainly　now　he　saw　how　grievously　he　had　failed　with　regard　to　Raeburn；　and　patiently　did　he　listen　to　Donovan's　account　of　the　really　good　work　which　Raeburn　had　effected　in　many　instances。

〃Much　as　you　may　hate　his　views；　you　must　at　least　see　that；　as　some　one　has　well　expressed　it；　'It　takes　a　high…souled　man　to　move　the　masses　even　to　a　cleaner　sty。'　　And　I　say　that　a　man　who　worked　as　he　worked；　striving　hard　to　teach　the　people　to　live　for　the　general　good；　advocating　temperance；　promoting　the　spread　of　education；　and　somehow　winning　those　whom　no　one　else　had　ever　touched　to　take　an　intelligent　interest　in　politics；　in　science；　and　in　the　future　of　the　race；　that　such　a　man　claims　our　respect　however　much　we　may　disagree　with　him。〃

〃But　that　he　should　have　died　ignorant　like　this！〃　exclaimed　Mr。　Fane…Smith　with　a　shudder。

〃'Tis　in　truth　a　tragedy；〃　said　Donovan；　sighing；。　　〃But　I　can　well　believe　that　in　another　world　the　barriers　which　he　allowed　to　distort　his　vision　will　be　removed；　the　very　continuance　of　existence　would　surely　be　sufficient。〃

〃You　are　a　universalist？〃　said　Mr。　Fane…Smith；　not　in　the　condemnatory　tone　he　would　once　have　assumed；　but　humbly；　anxiously；　like　one　who　gropes　his　way　in　a　dark　place。

〃Yes；〃　replied　Donovan。　　〃Believing　in　a　universal　Father；　I　am　naturally　that。　　Upon　any　other　system；　what　do　you　make　of　the　good　which　exists　in　so　many　of　those　who　deny　all　in　which　you　believe？　　Where　does　the　good　go　to？　　I　stood　beside　the　death　bed　of　that　noble　man　this　morning。　　At　the　very　last　I　saw　most　touching　proofs　of　his　strong　sense　of　justice；　his　honesty；　his　desire　to　promote　the　good　of　others；　his　devotion　to　his　child。　　Can　you　believe　that　all　that　goodness；　which　of　necessity　comes　from　God；　is　to　go　down　into　what　you　call　everlasting　punishment？　　Don't　mistake　me。　　Thank　God　there　is　a　punishment　which　no　one　would　wish　to　forego；　such　punishment；　such　drawing　forth　of　the　native　good；　such　careful　help　in　the　rooting　out　of　what　is　evil　as　all　good　fathers　give　to　their　children。〃

They　were　interrupted　by　the　opening　of　the　door。　　Mr。　Fane…Smith　started　and　almost　trembled　when；　on　turning　round；　he　saw　Erica。　　She　was　pale；　but　preternaturally　calm　looking；　however；　they　all　felt；　as　if　in　her　father's　death；　she　had　received　her　own　death　blow。

〃I　thought　I　heard　you；〃　she　said　in　that　strangely　〃gravened〃　voice　which　is　sometimes　one　of　the　consequences　of　great　and　sudden　trouble。　　〃Has　Donovan　taken　you　into　the　next　room？　　Will　you　come？〃

For　his　life　Mr。　Fane…Smith　could　not　have　refused　anything　which　she　asked　him；　there　was　something　in　her　manner　that　made　the　tears　rush　to　his　eyes　though　he　was　not；　as　a　rule；　easily　moved。

He　followed　her　obediently　though　with　a　sort　of　reluctance；　but　when　he　was　once　there　he　was　glad。　　Ever　since　the　previous　day　he　had　not　been　able　to　rid　himself　of　that　stern；　hard　look　with　which　Raeburn　had　so　terribly　rebuked　him；　it　had　persistently　haunted　him。　　There　was　nothing　stern　in　this　dead　face。　　It　was　still　and　passionless；　bearing　the　look　of　repose　which；　spite　of　a　harassed　life；　it　had　always　borne　in　moments　of　leisure。　　He　hardly　looked　as　though　he　were　dead。　Erica　could　almost　have　fancied　that　he　was　but　resting　after　the　toils　of　a　hard　day；　having　fallen　asleep　for　a　few　minutes；　as　she　had　often　seen　him　in　his　arm　chair　on　a　Sunday　evening。

Mr。　Fane…Smith　did　not　say　a　word；　his　eyes　wandered　from　the　calm　face　to　the　still　hands　which　clasped　some　sprigs　of　his　native　heather；　the　heather　which　Donovan's　children　had　sent　only　the　day　before；　but　just　in　time　to　win　one　of　his　last　smiles。　　Donovan　and　Erica　spoke　together　in　low　tones；　but　something　in　the　sound　of　that　〃gravened〃　voice　arrested　Mr。　Fane…Smith's　attention。　　He　had　not　heard　what　had　passed　before；　and　there　was　nothing　special　in　the　words　that　fell　now　upon　his　ear；　it　was　rather　that　his　own　soul　was　in　a　state　of　receptivity；　and　so　through　the　first　channel　that　came　to　hand　he　was　able　to　receive　a　new　truth。

〃I　am　only　his　child；　God　is　his　Father。〃

And　there；　by　the　lifeless　body　of　Luke　Raeburn；　one；　who　during　his　life　had　judged　him　with　the　very　hardest　judgment；　learned　for　the　first　time　what　Fatherhood　means。

As　long　as　there　was　anything　to　be　done；　Erica　struggled　on　although　the　days　were　terribly　hard　and　were　rendered　infinitely　harder　by　the　sort　of　publicity　which　attended　them。　　There　was　the　necessity　of　appearing　at　the　inquest；　there　was　the　necessity　of　reading　every　word　that　was　written　about　her　father。　　She　could　not　help　reading　the　papers；　could　not　keep　her　hands　off　them；　though　even　now　most　cruel　things　were　said。　　There　was　the　necessity　of　attending　the　great　public　funeral　in　London；　of　seeing　the　thousands　of　grief…stricken　people；　of　listening　to　the　professor's　words　so　broken　with　sobs　that　they　could　hardly　be　heard。　　A　week　later　there　was　the　necessity　of　going　down　to　the　Ashborough　assizes　to　appear　as　a　witness　in　the　trial　of　Drosser。

〃What　do　you　feel　toward　this　man？〃　some　one　asked　her　once。

〃A　great　pity；〃　she　replied。　　〃It　is　not　nearly　so　hard　for　me　to　forgive　this　poor　fanatic　as　to　forgive　those　who　have　taught　him　his　dark　creed；　or　to　forgive　those　who；　while　calling　themselves　Christians；　have　hated　my　father　with　the　hatred　that　is　quite　as　bad　as　murder。〃

But　when　the　trial　was　over　and　there　was　no　longer　any　necessity　to　do　anything；　Erica　suddenly　broke　down。　　She　had　never　till　now　yielded　though　not　a　night　had　passed　in　which　she　had　not　been　haunted　by　the　frightful　recollections　of　that　Sunday　evening　and　the　days　following。　　But　the　evening　she　returned　from　Ashborough　she　could　hold　out　no　longer。

Very　quietly　she　bore　that　sad　return　to　the　empty　house；　going　into　all　the　familiar　rooms　and　showing　no　sign　of　grief；　because　those　she　loved　were　with　her；　watching　her　with　the　anxious　solicitude　which　people　cannot　help　showing　at　such　a　time　though　it　is　usually　more　of　a　trial　than　a　comfort。　　Erica　longed　inexpressibly　to