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〃Mamma；〃　said　Rose；　〃I　don't　think　Mr。　Raeburn　will　injure　my　prospectsof　course　you　mean　prospects　of　marrying。　　If　a　man　didn't　care　enough　for　me　to　take　me　whether　I　am　the　niece　of　the　worst　man　in　England　or　not；　do　you　think　I　would　accept　him？〃

There　was　an　angry　ring　in　her　voice　as　she　spoke；　her　little　saucy　mouth　looked　almost　grand。　　After　a　moment's　pause；　she　added；　more　quietly；　but　with　all　the　force　of　the　true　woman's　heart　which　lay　hidden　beneath　her　silliness　and　frivolity；　〃Besides；　mamma；　is　it　quite　honest？〃

〃We　are　not　bound　to　publish　our　family　history　to　the　world；　Rose。　　If　any　one　asked　me；　of　course　I　should　tell　the　truth；　if　there　was　any　way　of　helping　my　brother　or　his　child　I　would　gladly　serve　them；　even　though　the　world　would　look　coldly　on　me　for　doing　so；　but　while　they　remain　atheists　how　is　it　possible？〃

〃Then　he　has　a　child？〃

〃One　only；　I　believe；　a　girl　of　about　your　own　age。〃

〃Oh；　mamma；　how　I　should　like　to　know　her！〃

〃My　dear　Rose；　how　can　you　speak　of　such　a　thing？　　You　don't　realize　that　she　is　an　atheist；　has　not　even　been　baptized；　poor　little　thing！〃

〃But　she　is　my　cousin；　and　she　is　a　girl　just　like　me；〃　said　Rose。　　〃I　should　like　to　know　her　very　much。　　I　wonder　whether　she　has　come　out　yet。　　I　wonder　how　she　enjoyed　her　first　ball。〃

〃My　dear！　　They　are　not　in　society。〃

〃How　dull！　　What　does　she　do　all　day；　I　wonder？〃

〃I　cannot　tell；　I　wish　you　would　not　talk　about　her；　Rose；　I　should　not　wish　you　even　to　think　about　her；　except；　indeed；　to　mention　her　in　your　prayers。〃

〃Oh；　I'd　much　rather　have　her　here　to　stay；〃　said　Rose；　with　a　little　mischievous　gleam　in　her　eyes。

〃Rose！〃

〃Why　mamma；　if　she　were　a　black　unbeliever　you　would　be　delighted　to　have　her；　it　is　only　because　she　is　white　that　you　won't　have　anything　to　do　with　her。　　You　would　have　been　as　pleased　as　possible　if　I　had　made　friends　with　any　of　the　ladies　in　the　Zenanas。〃

Mrs。　Fane…Smith　looked　uncomfortable；　and　murmured　that　that　was　a　very　different　question。　　Rose；　seeing　her　advantage；　made　haste　to　follow　it　up。

〃At　any　rate；　mamma；　you　will　write　to　Uncle　Luke　now　that　he　is　in　trouble；　and　you'll　let　me　send　a　note　to　his　daughter？　　Only　think；　mamma；　she　has　lost　her　mother　so　suddenly！　　Just　think　how　wretched　she　must　be！　　Oh；　mamma；　dear；　I　can't　think　how　she　can　bear　it！〃　and　Rose　threw　her　arms　round　her　mother's　neck。　　〃I　should　die　too　if　you　were　to　die！　　I'm　sure　I　should。〃

Rose　was　very　persuasive；　Mrs。　Fane…Smith's　motherly　heart　was　touched；　she　sat　down　there　and　then；　and　for　the　first　time　since　the　summer　day　when　Luke　Raeburn　had　been　turned　out　of　his　father's　house；　she　wrote　to　her　brother。　　Rose　in　the　meantime　had　taken　a　piece　of　paper　from　her　mother's　writing　desk；　and　with　a　fat　volume　of　sermons　by　way　of　a　desk　was　scribbling　away　as　fast　as　she　could。　　This　was　her　letter：

〃My　dear　cousin；I　don't　know　your　name；　and　have　only　just　heard　anything　about　you；　and　the　first　thing　I　heard　was　that　you　were　in　dreadful　trouble。　　I　only　write　to　send　you　my　love；　and　to　say　how　very　sorry　I　am　for　you。　　We　only　came　to　England　in　the　autumn。　　I　like　it　very　much。　　I　am　going　to　my　first　ball　tonight；　and　expect　to　enjoy　it　immensely。　　My　dress　is　to　be　white　tarle　Oh；　dear！　　How　horrid　of　me　to　be　writing　like　this　to　you。　　Please　forgive　me。　　I　don't　like　to　be　so　happy　when　you　are　unhappy；　but；　you　see；　I　have　only　just　heard　of　you；　so　it　is　a　little　difficult。　With　love；　I　remain；　your　affectionate　cousin；　Rose　Fane…Smith。〃

That　evening；　while　Erica；　with　eyes　dim　with　grief　and　weariness；　was　poring　over　the　books　in　her　father's　study；　Rose　was　being　initiated　into　all　the　delights　of　the　ballroom。　　She　was　in　her　glory。　　Everything　was　new　to　her；　she　enjoyed　dancing；　she　knew　that　she　looked　pretty；　knew　that　her　dress　was　charming；　knew　that　she　was　much　admired；　and　of　course　she　liked　it　all。　　But　the　chaperons　shook　their　heads；　it　was　whispered　that　Miss　Fane…Smith　was　a　terrible　flirt；　she　had　danced　no　less　than　seven　dances　with　Captain　Golightly。　　If　her　mother　erred　by　thinking　too　much　of　what　people　said；　perhaps　Rose　erred　in　exactly　the　opposite　way；　at　any　rate；　she　managed　to　call　down　upon　her　silly　but　innocent　little　head　an　immense　amount　of　blame　from　the　mothers　and　elderly　ladies。

〃A　glorious　moonlight　night；〃　said　Captain　Golightly。　　〃What　do　you　say；　Miss　Fane…Smith？　　Shall　we　take　a　turn　in　the　garden？　　Or　are　you　afraid　of　the　cold？〃

〃Afraid！　　Oh；　dear　no；〃　said　Rose；　〃it's　the　very　thing　I　should　enjoy。　I　suppose　I　must　get　my　shawl；　though；　it　is　upstairs。〃

They　were　in　the　vestibule。

〃Have　my　ulster；〃　said　Captain　Golightly。　　〃Here　it　is；　just　handy；　and　it　will　keep　you　much　warmer。〃

Rose　laughed　and　blushed；　and　allowed　herself　to　be　put　into　her　partner's　coat；　rather　to　the　detriment　of　her　billowy　tarletan。　　After　a　while　they　came　back　again　from　the　dim　garden　to　the　brightly　lighted　vestibule；　　and　as　ill　luck　would　have　it；　chanced　to　encounter　a　stream　of　people　going　into　the　supper　room。　　Every　one　stared　at　the　apparition　of　Miss　Fane…Smith　in　Captain　Golightly's　coat。　　With　some　difficulty　she　struggled　out　of　it；　and　with　very　hot　cheeks　sought　shelter　in　the　ballroom。

〃How　dreadfully　they　looked！　　Do　you　think　it　was　wrong　of　me？〃　she　half　whispered　to　her　partner。

〃Oh；　dear；　no！　　Sensible　and　plucky；　and　everything　delightful！　　You　are　much　too　charming　to　be　bound　down　to　silly　conventionalities。　　Come；　let　us　have　this　dance。　　I'm　sure　you　are　engaged　to　some　one　in　the　supper　room　who　can't　deserve　such　a　delightful　partner。　　Let　us　have　this　TROIS　TEMPS；　and　hurl　defiance　at　the　Greyshot　chaperons。〃

Rose　laughed；　and　allowed　herself　to　be　borne　off。　　She　had　been　excited　before；　now　she　was　doubly　excited；　and　Captain　Golightly　had　the　most　delicious　step　imaginable。


CHAPTER　X。　Hard　at　Work

Longing　is　God's　fresh　heavenward　will　With　our　poor　earthward　striving；　We　quench　it　that　we　may　be　still　Content　with　merely　living；　But；　would　we　learn　that　heart's　full　scope　Which　we　are　hourly　wronging；　Our　lives　must　climb　from　hope　to　hope　And　realize　our　longing。　　J。　R。　Lowell

Perhaps　it　was　only　natural　that　there　should　be　that　winter　a　good　deal　of　communication　between　the　secularist's　house　in　Guilford　Terrace　and　the　clergyman's　house　in　Guilford　Square。

From　the　first　Raeburn　had　taken　a　great　fancy　to　Charles　Osmond；　and　now　that　Brian　had　become　so　closely　connected　with　the　memory　of　their　sudden　bereavement；　and　had　made　himself　almost　one　of　them　by　his　silent；　unobtrusive　sympathy；　and　by　his　numberless　acts　of　delicate　considerateness；　a　tie　was　necessarily　formed　which　promised　to　deepen　into　one　of　those　close　friendships　that　sometimes　exist　between　two　entire　families。

It　was　a　bleak；　chilly　afternoon　in　March；　when　Charles　Osmond；　returning　from　a　long　round　of　parish　work；　thought　he　would　look　in　for　a　few　minutes　at　the　Raeburns'；　he　had　a　proposal　to　make　to　Erica；　some　fresh　work　which　he　thought　might　interest　her。　　He　rang　the　bell　at　the　now　familiar　door　and　was　admitted；　it　carried　him　back　to　the　day　when　he　had　first　called　there　and　had　been　shown　into　the　fire…lit　room；　with　the　book…lined　walls；　and　the　pretty　little　girl　curled　up　on　the　rug；　with　her　cat　and　her　toasting　fork。　　Time　had　brought　many　changes　since　then。　　This　evening　he　was　again　shown　into　the　study；　but　this　time　the　gas　was　lighted；　and　there　was　no　little　girl　upon　the　hearth　rug。　　Erica　was　sitting　at　her　desk　hard　at　work。　　Her　face　lighted　up　at　the　sight　of　her　visitor。

〃Every　one　is　out　except　me；〃　she　said；　more　brightly　than　he　had　heard　her　speak　since　her　return。　　〃Did　you　really　come　to　see　me。　　How　good　of　you。〃

〃But　you　are　busy？〃　said　Charles　Osmond；　glancing　at　the　papers　on　the　desk。　　〃Press　work？〃

〃Yes；　my　first　article；〃　said　Erica；　〃it　is　just　finished；　but　if　you'll　excuse　me　for　one　minute；　I　ought　to　correct　it；　the　office　boy　will　call　for　it　directly。〃

〃Don't　hurry；　I　will　wait　and　get　warm　in　the　meantime；〃　said　Charles　Osmond；　establishing　himself　by　the　fire。

There　was　a　silence　broken　only　by　the　sound　of　Erica's　pen　as　she　crossed　out　a　word　or　a　line。　　Charles　Osmond　watched　her　and　mused。　　This　beautiful　girl；　whose　development　he　could　trace　now　for　more　than　two　years　back；　what　would　she　grow　into？　　Already　she　was　writing　in　the　〃Idol　Breaker。〃　　He　regretted　it。　　Yet　it　was　obviously　the　most　natural　employment　for　her。　　He　looked　at　her　ever…changing　face。　　She　was　absorbed　in　her　work；　her　expression　varying　with　the　sentences　she　read；　now　there　was　a　look　of　triumphant　happiness　as　she　came　to　something　which　made　her　heart　beat　quickly；　again；　a　shade　of　dissatisfaction　at　the　consciousness　of　her　inability　to　express　what　was　in　her　mind。　　He　could　not　help　thinking　that　it　was　one　of　the　noblest　faces　he　had　ever　seen；　and　now　that　the　eyes　were　downcast　it　was　not　so　terribly　sad；　there　was；　moreover；　for　the　first　time　since　her　mother's　death；　a　faint　tinge　of　color　in　her　cheeks。　　Before　five　minutes　could　have　passed；　the　bell　rang　again。

〃That　is　my　boy；〃　she　exclaimed；　and