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　but　our　own　people；　but　it　can　hardly　be；　darling；　that　you　can　go　on　much　longer　without　coming　into　contact　with　others；　and　then；　more　and　more；　you　must　realize　that　you　are　cut　off　from　much　that　other　girls　may　enjoy。〃

〃Why？〃　questioned　Erica。　　〃Why　can't　they　be　friendly？　　Why　must　they　cut　us　off　from　everything？〃　　

〃It　does　seem　unjust；　but　you　must　remember　that　we　belong　to　an　unpopular　minority。〃

〃But　if　I　belonged　to　the　larger　party；　I　would　at　least　be　just　to　the　smaller；〃　said　Erica。　　〃How　can　they　expect　us　to　think　their　system　beautiful　when　the　very　first　thing　they　show　us　is　hatred　and　meanness。　　Oh！　If　I　belonged　to　the　other　side　I　would　show　them　how　different　it　might　be。〃

〃I　believe　you　would；〃　said　the　mother；　smiling　a　little　at　the　idea；　and　at　the　vehemence　of　the　speaker。　　〃But；　as　it　is；　Erica；　I　am　afraid　you　must　school　yourself　to　endure。　　After　all；　I　fancy　you　will　be　glad　to　share　so　soon　in　your　father's　vexations。〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Erica；　pushing　back　the　hair　from　her　forehead；　and　giving　herself　a　kind　of　mental　shaking。　　〃I　am　glad　of　that。　　After　all；　they　can't　spoil　the　best　part　of　our　lives！　　I　shall　go　into　the　garden　to　get　rid　of　my　bad　temper；　it　doesn't　rain　now。〃

She　struggled　to　her　feet；　picked　up　the　little　fur　hat　which　had　fallen　off；　kissed　her　mother；　and　went　out　of　the　room。

The　〃garden〃　was　Erica's　favorite　resort；　her　own　particular　property。　　It　was　about　fifteen　feet　square；　and　no　one　but　a　Londoner　would　have　bestowed　on　it　so　dignified　a　name。　　But　Erica；　who　was　of　an　inventive　turn；　had　contrived　to　make　the　most　of　the　little　patch　of　ground；　had　induced　ivy　to　grow　on　the　ugly　brick　walls；　and　with　infinite　care　and　satisfaction　had　nursed　a　few　flowers　and　shrubs　into　tolerably　healthy　though　smutty　life。　　In　one　of　the　corners；　Tom　Craigie；　her　favorite　cousin；　had　put　up　a　rough　wooden　bench　for　her；　and　here　she　read　and　dreamed　as　contentedly　as　if　her　〃garden　ground〃　had　been　fairy…land。　　Here；　too；　she　invariably　came　when　anything　had　gone　wrong；　when　the　endless　troubles　about　money　which　had　weighed　upon　her　all　her　life　became　a　little　less　bearable　than　usual；　or　when　some　act　of　discourtesy　or　harshness　to　her　father　had　roused　in　her　a　tingling；　burning　sense　of　indignation。

Erica　was　not　one　of　those　people　who　take　life　easily；　things　went　very　deeply　with　her。　　In　spite　of　her　brightness　and　vivacity；　in　spite　of　her　readiness　to　see　the　ludicrous　in　everything；　and　her　singularly　quick　perceptions；　she　was　also　very　keenly　alive　to　other　and　graver　impressions。

Her　anger　had　passed；　but　still；　as　she　paced　round　and　round　her　small　domain；　her　heart　was　very　heavy。　　Life　seemed　perplexing　to　her；　but　her　mother　had　somehow　struck　the　right　key…note　when　she　had　spoken　of　the　vexations　which　might　be　shared。　　There　was　something　inspiriting　in　that　thought；　certainly；　for　Erica　worshipped　her　father。　　By　degrees　the　trouble　and　indignation　died　away；　and　a　very　sweet　look　stole　over　the　grave　little　face。

A　smutty　sparrow　came　and　peered　down　at　her　from　the　ivy…colored　wall；　and　chirped　and　twittered　in　quite　a　friendly　way；　perhaps　recognizing　the　scatter　of　its　daily　bread。

〃After　all；〃　though　Erica；　〃with　ourselves　and　the　animals；　we　might　let　the　rest　of　the　world　treat　us　as　they　please。　　I　am　glad　they　can't　turn　the　animals　and　birds　against　us！　　That　would　be　worse　than　anything。〃

Then；　suddenly　turning　from　the　abstract　to　the　practical；　she　took　out　of　her　pocket　a　shabby　little　sealskin　purse。

〃Still　sixpence　of　my　prize　money　over；〃　she　remarked　to　herself；　〃I'll　go　and　buy　some　scones　for　tea。　　Father　likes　them。〃

Erica's　father　was　a　Scotchman；　and；　though　so…called　scones　were　to　be　had　at　most　shops；　there　was　only　one　place　where　she　could　buy　scones　which　she　considered　worthy　the　name；　and　that　was　at　the　Scotch　baker's　in　Southampton　Row。　　She　hurried　along　the　wet　pavements；　glad　that　the　rain　was　over；　for　as　soon　as　her　purchase　was　completed　she　made　up　her　mind　to　indulge　for　a　few　minutes　in　what　had　lately　become　a　very　frequent　treat；　namely　a　pause　before　a　certain　tempting　store　of　second…hand　books。　She　had　never　had　money　enough　to　buy　anything　except　the　necessary　school　books；　and；　being　a　great　lover　of　poetry；　she　always　seized　with　avidity　on　anything　that　was　to　be　found　outside　the　book　shop。　　Sometimes　she　would　carry　away　a　verse　of　Swinburne；　which　would　ring　in　her　ears　for　days　and　days；　sometimes　she　would　read　as　much　as　two　or　three　pages　of　Shelley。　　No　one　had　every　interrupted　her；　and　a　certain　sense　of　impropriety　and　daring　was　rather　stimulating　than　otherwise。　　It　always　brought　to　her　mind　a　saying　in　the　proverbs　of　Solomon；　〃Stolen　waters　are　sweet；　and　bread　eaten　in　secret　is　pleasant。〃

For　three　successive　days　she　had　found　to　her　great　delight　Longfellow's　〃Hiawatha。〃　　The　strange　meter；　the　musical　Indian　names；　the　delightfully　described　animals；　all　served　to　make　the　poem　wonderfully　fascinating　to　her。　　She　thought　a　page　or　two　of　〃Hiawatha〃　would　greatly　sweeten　her　somewhat　bitter　world　this　afternoon；　and　with　her　bag　of　scones　in　one　hand　and　the　book　in　the　other　she　read　on　happily；　quite　unconscious　that　three　pair　of　eyes　were　watching　her　from　within　the　shop。

The　wrinkled　old　man　who　was　the　presiding　genius　of　the　place　had　two　customers；　a　tall；　gray…bearded　clergyman　with　bright；　kindly　eyes；　and　his　son；　the　same　Brian　Osmond　whom　Erica　had　charged　with　her　umbrella　in　Gower　Street。

〃An　outside　customer　for　you；〃　remarked　Charles　Osmond；　the　clergyman；　glancing　at　the　shop　keeper。　　Then　to　his　son；　〃What　a　picture　she　makes！〃

Brian　looked　up　hastily　from　some　medical　books　which　he　had　been　turning　over。

〃Why　that's　my　little　Gower　Street　friend；〃　he　exclaimed；　the　words　being　somehow　surprised　out　of　him；　though　he　would　fain　have　recalled　them　the　next　minute。

〃I　don't　interrupt　her；〃　said　the　shop　owner。　　〃Her　father　has　done　a　great　deal　of　business　with　me；　and　the　little　lady　has　a　fancy　for　poetry；　and　don't　get　much　of　it　in　her　life；　I'll　be　bound。〃

〃Why；　who　is　she？〃　asked　Charles　Osmond；　who　was　on　very　friendly　terms　with　the　old　book　collector。

〃She's　the　daughter　of　Luke　Raeburn；〃　was　the　reply；　〃and　whatever　folks　may　say；　　I　know　that　Mr。　Raeburn　leads　a　hard　enough　life。〃

Brian　turned　away　from　the　speakers；　a　sickening　sense　of　dismay　at　his　heart。　　His　ideal　was　the　daughter　of　Luke　Raeburn！　　And　Luke　Raeburn　was　an　atheist　leader！

For　a　few　minutes　he　lost　consciousness　of　time　and　place；　though　always　seeing　in　a　sort　of　dark　mist　Erica's　lovely　face　bending　over　her　book。　　The　shop　keeper's　casual　remark　had　been　a　fearful　blow　to　him；　yet；　as　he　came　to　himself　again；　his　heart　went　out　more　and　more　to　the　beautiful　girl　who　had　been　brought　up　in　what　seemed　to　him　so　barren　a　creed。　　His　dream　of　love；　which　had　been　bright　enough　only　an　hour　before；　was　suddenly　shadowed　by　an　unthought　of　pain；　but　presently　began　to　shine　with　a　new　and　altogether　different　luster。　　He　began　to　hear　again　what　was　passing　between　his　father　and　the　shop　keeper。

〃There's　a　sight　more　good　in　him　than　folks　think。　　However　wrong　his　views；　he　believes　them　right；　and　is　ready　to　suffer　for　'em；　too。　　Bless　me；　that's　odd；　to　be　sure！　　There　is　Mr。　Raeburn；　on　the　other　side　of　the　Row！　　Fine…looking　man；　isn't　he？〃

Brian；　　looking　up　eagerly；　fancied　he　must　be　mistaken　　for　the　only　passenger　in　sight　was　a　very　tall　man　of　remarkably　benign　aspect；　middle…aged；　yet　venerableor　perhaps　better　described　by　the　word　〃devotional…looking；〃　pervaded　too　by　a　certain　majesty　of　calmness　which　seemed　scarcely　suited　to　his　character　of　public　agitator。　　The　clean…shaven　and　somewhat　rugged　face　was　unmistakably　that　of　a　Scotchman；　the　thick　waves　of　tawny　hair　overshadowing　the　wide　brow；　and　the　clear　golden…brown　eyes　showed　Brian　at　once　that　this　could　be　no　other　than　the　father　of　his　ideal。

In　the　meantime；　Raeburn；　having　caught　sight　of　his　daughter；　slowly　crossed　the　road；　and　coming　noiselessly　up　to　her；　suddenly　took　hold　of　the　book　she　was　reading；　and　with　laughter　in　his　eyes；　said；　in　a　peremptory　voice：

〃Five　shillings　to　pay；　if　you　please；　miss！〃

Erica；　who　had　been　absorbed　in　the　poem；　looked　up　in　dismay；　then　seeing　who　had　spoken；　she　began　to　laugh。

〃What　a　horrible　fright　you　gave　me；　father！　　But　do　look　at　this；　it's　the　loveliest　thing　in　the　world。　　I've　just　got　to　the　'very　strong　man　Kwasind。'　　I　think　he's　a　little　like　you！〃

Raeburn；　though　no　very　great　lover　of　poetry；　took　the　book　and　read　a　few　lines。

〃Long　they　lived　in　peace　together；　Spake　with　naked　hearts　together；　Pondering　much　and　much　contriving　How　the　tribes　of　men　might　prosper。〃

〃Good！　　That　will　do　very　well　for　you　and　me；　little　one。　　I'm　ready　to　be　your　Kwasind。　　What's　the　price　of　the　thing？　　Four　and　sixpence！　　Too　much　for　a　luxury。　　It　must　wait　till　our　ship　comes　in。〃

He　put　down　the　book；　and　they　moved　on　together；　but　had　not　gone　many　paces　before　they　were　stopped　by　a　most　miserable…looking　beggar　child。　　Brian　standing　now　outside　the　sho