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r　eye。　　All　at　once　her　benumbed　faculties　regained　their　power；　her　heart　began　to　beat　wildly；　for　there；　in　clearest　print；　in　short；　choppy；　unequivocal　sentences；　was　the　hideous　fear　which　she　had　contrived　so　long　to　banish。

〃Mr。　Raeburn　is　dying。　　The　bulletins　have　daily　been　growing　less　and　less　hopeful。　　Yesterday　doctor　R______；　who　had　been　called　in；　could　only　confirm　the　unfavorable　opinion　of　the　other　doctors。　　In　all　probability　the　days　of　the　great　apostle　of　atheism　are　numbered。　　It　rests　with　the　Hyde　Park　rioters；　and　those　who　by　word　and　example　have　incited　them；　to　bear　the　responsibility　of　making　a　martyr　of　such　a　man　as　Mr。　Luke　Raeburn。　　Emphatically　disclaiming　the　slightest　sympathy　with　Mr。　Raeburn's　religious　views；　we　yet〃

But　Erica　could　read　no　more。　Whatever　modicum　of　charity　the　writer　ventured　to　put　forth　was　lost　upon　her。　　The　opening　sentence　danced　before　her　eyes　in　letters　of　fire。　　That　morning　she　met　Brian　in　the　passage　and　drew　him　into　the　sitting　room。　　He　saw　at　once　how　it　was　with　her。

〃Look；〃　she　said；　holding　the　newspaper　toward　him；　〃is　that　true？　　Or　is　it　only　a　sensation　trap　or　written　for　party　purposes？〃

Her　delicate　lips　were　closed　with　their　hardest　expression；　her　eyes　only　looked　grave　and　questioning。　　She　watched　his　face　as　he　read；　lost　her　last　hope；　and　with　the　look　of　such　anguish　as　he　had　never　before　seen；　drew　the　paper　from　him；　and　caught　his　hand　in　hers　in　wild　entreaty。

〃Oh；　Brian；　Brian！　　Is　there　no　hope？　　Surely　you　can　do　something　for　him。　　There　MUST　be　hope；　he　is　so　strong；　so　full　of　life。〃

He　struggled　hard　for　voice　and　words　to　answer　her；　but　the　imploring　pressure　of　her　hands　on　his　had　nearly　unnerved　him。　　Already　the　grief　that　kills　lurked　in　her　eyes　he　knew　that　if　her　father　died　she　would　not　long　survive　him。

〃Don't　say　what　is　untrue；〃　she　continued。　〃　Don't　let　me　drive　you　into　telling　a　lie　　but　only　tell　me　if　there　is　indeed　no　hope　no　chance。〃

〃It　may　be；〃　said　Brian。　　〃You　must　not　expect；　for　those　far　wiser　than　I　say　it　can　not　be。　　But　I　hope　yes；　I　still　hope。〃

On　that　crumb　of　comfort　she　lived；　but　it　was　a　weary　day；　and　for　the　first　time　she　noticed　that　her　father；　who　was　free　from　fever；　　followed　her　everywhere　with　his　eyes。　　She　knew　intuitively　that　he　thought　himself　dying。

Toward　evening　she　was　sitting　beside　him；　slowly　drawing　her　fingers　through　his　thick　masses　of　snow…white　hair　in　the　way　he　liked　best；　when　he　looked　suddenly　right　into　her　eyes　with　his　own　strangely　similar　ones；　deep；　earnest　eyes；　full　now　of　a　sort　of　dumb　yearning。

〃Little　son　Eric；〃　he　said；　faintly；　〃you　will　go　on　with　the　work　I　am　leaving。〃

〃Yes；　father；〃　she　replied　firmly；　though　her　heart　felt　as　if　it　would　break。

〃A　harmful　delusion；〃　he　murmured；　half　to　himself；　〃taking　up　our　best　men！　　Swallowing　up　the　money　of　the　people。　　What's　that　singing；　　Erica？〃

〃It　is　the　children　in　the　hospital；〃　she　replied。　　〃I'll　shut　the　window　if　they　disturb　you；　father。〃

〃No；　〃　he　said。　　〃One　can　tolerate　the　delusion　for　them　if　it　makes　their　pain　more　bearable。　　Poor　bairns！　　Poor　bairns！　Pain　is　an　odd　mystery。〃

He　drew　down　her　hand　and　held　it　in　his；　seeming　to　listen　to　the　singing；　which　floated　in　clearly　through　the　open　window　at　right　angles　with　the　back　windows　of　the　hospital。　　Neither　of　them　knew　what　the　hymn　was；　but　the　refrain　which　came　after　every　verse　as　if　even　the　tinies　were　joining　in　it　was　quite　audible　to　Luke　Raeburn　and　his　daughter；

〃Through　life's　long　day；　and　death's　dark　night；　Oh；　gentle　Jesus；　be　our　light。〃

Erica's　breath　came　in　gasps。　　To　be　reminded　then　that　life　was　long　and　that　death　was　dark！

She　thought　she　had　never　prayed；　she　had　never　consciously　prayed；　but　her　whole　life　for　the　past　three　years　had　been　an　unspoken　prayer。　　Never　was　there　a　more　true　desire　entirely　unexpressed　than　the　desire　which　now　seemed　to　possess　her　whole　being。　　The　darkness　would　soon　hide　forever　the　being　she　most　loved。　　Oh；　if　she　could　but　honestly　think　that　He　who　called　Himself　the　Light　of　the　world　was　indeed　still　living；　still　ready　to　help！

But　to　allow　her　distress　to　gain　the　mastery　over　her　would　certainly　disturb　and　grieve　her　father。　　With　a　great　effort　she　stifled　the　sobs　which　would　rise　in　her　throat；　and　waited　in　rigid　stillness。　　When　the　last　notes　of　the　hymn　had　died　away　into　silence；　she　turned　to　look　at　her　father。　　He　had　fallen　asleep。


CHAPTER　XVIII。　Answered　or　Unanswered？

〃Glory　to　God　to　God！〃　he　saith；　〃Knowledge　by　suffering　entereth；　And　life　is　perfected　by　death。〃　　E。　B。　Browning

〃Mr。　Raeburn　is　curiously　like　the　celebrated　dog　of　nursery　lore；　who　appertained　to　the　ancient　and　far…famed　Mother　Hubbard。　　All　the　doctors　gave　him　up；　all　the　secularists　prepared　mourning　garments；　the　printers　were　meditating　black　borders　for　the　'Idol…Breaker；'　the　relative　merits　of　burial　and　cremation　were　already　in　discussion；　when　the　dog　we　beg　pardon　the　leader　of　atheism；　came　to　life　again。

〃'She　went　to　the　joiners　to　buy　him　a　coffin；　But　when　she　came　back　the　dog　was　laughing。'

〃History；〃　as　a　great　man　was　fond　of　remarking；　'repeats　itself。'〃

Raeburn　laughed　heartily　over　the　accounts　of　his　recovery　in　the　comic　papers。　　No　one　better　appreciated　the　very　clever　representation　of　himself　as　a　huge　bull…dog　starting　up　into　life　while　Britannia　in　widow's　weeds　brought　in　a　parish　coffin。　　Erica　would　hardly　look　at　the　thing；　she　had　suffered　too　much　to　be　able　to　endure　any　jokes　on　the　subject；　and　she　felt　hurt　and　angry　that　what　had　given　her　such　anguish　should　be　turned　into　a　foolish　jest。

At　length；　after　many　weeks　of　weary　anxiety；　she　was　able　to　breathe　freely　once　more；　for　her　father　steadily　regained　his　strength。　　The　devotion　of　her　whole　time　and　strength　and　thought　to　another　had　done　wonders　for　her；　her　character　had　strangely　deepened　and　mellowed。　　But　no　sooner　was　she　free　to　begin　her　ordinary　life　than　new　perplexities　beset　her　on　every　side。

During　her　own　long　illness　she　had　of　course　been　debarred　from　attending　any　lectures　or　meetings　whatever。　　In　the　years　following；　before　she　had　quite　regained　her　strength；　she　had　generally　gone　to　hear　her　father；　but　had　never　become　again　a　regular　attendant　at　the　lecture　hall。　　Now　that　she　was　quite　well；　however；　there　was　nothing　to　prevent　her　attending　as　many　lectures　as　she　pleased；　and　naturally；　her　position　as　Luke　Raeburn's　daughter　made　her　presence　desirable。　　So　it　came　to　pass　one　Sunday　evening　in　July　that　she　happened　to　be　present　at　a　lecture　given　by　a　Mr。　Masterman。

He　was　a　man　whom　they　knew　intimately。　Erica　liked　him　sufficiently　well　in　private　life；　and　he　had　been　remarkably　kind　and　helpful　at　the　time　of　her　father's　illness。　　It　was　some　years；　however；　since　she　had　heard　him　lecture；　and　this　evening；　by　the　virulence　of　his　attack　on　the　character　of　Christ；　he　revealed　to　her　how　much　her　ground　had　shifted　since　she　had　last　heard　him。　　It　was　not　that　he　was　an　opponent　of　existing　Christianity　her　father　was　that；　she　herself　was　that；　and　felt　bound　to　be　as　long　as　she　considered　it　a　lie　but　Mr。　Masterman's　attack　seemed　to　her　grossly　unfair；　almost　willfully　inaccurate；　and；　in　addition；　his　sarcasm　and　pleasantries　seemed　to　her　odiously　vulgar。　　He　was　answered　by　a　most　miserable　representative　of　Christianity；　who　made　a　foolish；　weak；　blustering　speech；　and　tried　to　pay　the　atheist　back　in　his　own　coin。　　Erica　felt　wretched。　　She　longed　to　get　up　and　speak　herself；　longing　flatly　to　contradict　the　champion　of　her　own　cause；　then　grew　frightened　at　the　strength　of　her　feelings。　　Could　this　be　mere　love　of　fair　play　and　justice？　　Was　her　feeling　merely　that　of　a　barrister　who　would　argue　as　well　on　one　side　as　the　other？　　And　yet　her　displeasure　in　itself　proved　little　or　nothing。　　Would　not　Charles　Osmond　be　displeased　and　indignant　if　he　heard　her　father　unjustly　spoken　of？　　Yes；　but　then　Luke　Raeburn　was　a　living　man；　and　Christ　was　she　even　sure　that　he　had　ever　lived？　　Well；　yes；　sure　of　that；　but　of　how　much　more？

When　the　assembly　broke　up；　her　mind　was　in　a　miserable　chaos　of　doubt。

It　was　one　of　those　delicious　summer　evenings　when　even　in　East　London　the　skies　are　mellow　and　the　air　sweet　and　cool。

〃Oh；　Tom；　let　us　walk　home！〃　she　exclaimed；　longing　for　change　of　scene　and　exercise。

〃All　right；〃　he　replied；　〃I'll　take　you　a　short　cut；　if　you　don't　mind　a　few　back　slums　to　begin　with。〃

Now　Erica　was　familiar　enough　with　the　sight　of　poverty　and　squalor；　she　had　not　lived　at　the　West　End；　where　you　may　entirely　forget　the　existence　of　the　poor。　　The　knowledge　of　evil　had　come　to　her　of　necessity　much　earlier　than　to　most　girls；　and　tonight；　as　Tom　took　her　through　a　succession　of　narrow　streets　and　dirty　courts；　misery；　and　vice；　and　hopeless　degradation　met　her　on　every　side。　　Swarms　of　filthy　little　children　wrangled　and　fought　in　the　gutters；　drunken　women　shouted　foul　language　at　one　another　everywhere　was　wickedness　everywhere　want。　Her　heart　felt　as　if　it　would　break。　　What　was　to　reach　the