st God。 I will NEVER leave him！〃
With that she got up and left the room； and Mr。 Fane…Smith leaned back in his chair with a sigh； his eyes fixed absently upon a portrait of Napoleon above his mantel piece； his mind more completely shaken out of its ordinary grooves than it had been for years。 He was a narrow…minded man； but he was honest。 He saw that he had judged Raeburn very unfairly。 But perhaps what occupied his thoughts the most was the question 〃Would Rose have been able to say of him all that Erica had said of her father？〃 He sighed many times； but after awhile slid back into the old habits of thought。
〃Erica is a brave； noble； little thing；〃 he said to himself； 〃but far from orthodox far from orthodox！ Socinian tendencies。〃
CHAPTER XXVII。 At Oak Dene Manor
Ah！ To how many faith has been No evidence of things unseen； But a dim shadow that recasts the creed of the Phantasiasts。
* * * *
For others a diviner creed Is living in the life they lead。 The passing of their beautiful feet Blesses the pavement of the street； And all their looks and words repeat Old Fuller's saying wise and sweet； Not as a vulture； but a dove； The Holy Ghost came from above。
Tales of a Wayside Inn。 Longfellow
During the interview Erica had braced herself up to endure； but when it was over her strength all at once evaporated。 She dragged herself upstairs somehow； and had just reached her room； when Mrs。 Fane…Smith met her。 She was preoccupied with her own anxieties； or Erica's exhaustion could not have escaped her notice。
〃I am really quite unhappy about Rose！〃 she exclaimed。 〃We must send for Doctor L_____。 Her cough seems so much worse； I fear it will turn to bronchitis。 Are you learned in such things？〃
〃I helped to nurse Tom through a bad attack once；〃 said Erica。
〃Oh！ Then come and see her；〃 said Mrs。 Fane…Smith。
Erica went without a word。 She would not have liked Mrs。 Fane…Smith's fussing； but yet the sight of her care for Rose made her feel more achingly conscious of the blank in her own life that blank which nothing could ever fill。 She wanted her own mother so terribly； and just now Mrs。 Fane…Smith had touched the old wound roughly。
Rose seemed remarkably cheerful； and not nearly so much invalided as her mother thought。
〃Mamma always thinks I am going to die if I'm at all out of sorts；〃 she remarked； when Mrs。 Fane…Smith had left the room to write to the doctor。 〃I believe you want doctoring much more than I do。 What is the matter？ You are as white as a sheet！〃
〃I am tired and rather worried； and my back is troublesome；〃 said Erica。
〃Then you'll just lie down on my sofa；〃 said Rose； peremptorily。 〃If you don't； I shall get out of bed and make you。〃
Erica did not require much compulsion for every inch of her seemed to have a separate ache； and she was still all quivering and tingling with the indignant anger stirred up by her interview with Mr。 Fane…Smith。 She let Rose chatter away and tried hard to school herself into calmness。 By and by her efforts were rewarded； she not only grew calm； but fell asleep； and slept like any baby till the gong sounded for luncheon。
Luncheon proved a very silent meal； it was； if possible； more trying that breakfast had been。 Mrs。 Fane…Smith had heard all about the interview from her husband； and they were both perplexed and disturbed。 Erica felt uncertain of her footing with them； and could only wait for them to make the first move。 But the grim silence tickled her fancy。
〃Really；〃 she thought to herself； 〃we might be so many horses munching away at mangers； for all we have said to each other。〃
But in spite of it she did not feel inclined to make conversation。
Later on she went for a drive with her aunt； the air revived her； and she began to feel more like herself again。 They went out into the country； but on the way home Mrs。 Fane…Smith stopped at one of the shops in High Street； leaving Erica in the carriage。 She was leaning back restfully； watching a beautiful chestnut horse which was being held by a ragged boy at the door of the bank just opposite； when her attention was suddenly aroused by an ominous howling and barking。 The chestnut horse began to kick； and the boy had as much as he could to hold him。 Starting forward； Erica saw that a fox terrier had been set upon by another and larger dog； and that the two were having a desperate fight。 The fox terrier was evidently fighting against fearful odds； for he was an old dog； and not nearly so strong as his antagonist； the howls and barks grew worse and worse； some of the passengers ran off in a fright； others watched from a safe distance； but not one interfered。
Now Erica was a great lover of animals； and a passionate lover of justice。 Furious to see men and boys looking on without attempting to stop the mischief； she sprang out of the carriage； and； rushing up to the combatants； belabored the big dog with her parasol。 It had a strong stick； but she hit so vehemently that it splintered all to bits； and still the dog would not leave its victim。 Then； in her desperation； she hit on the right remedy； with great difficulty she managed to grasp him by the throat； and； using all her force； so nearly suffocated him that he was obliged to loosen his hold。 At that moment； too； a strong man rushed forward and dealt him such a blow that he bounded off with a yell of pain； and ran howling down the street。 Erica bent over the fox terrier then； the big dog had mangled it frightfully； it was covered with blood； and moaned piteously。
〃Waif！ My poor waif！〃 exclaimed a voice which she seemed to know。 〃Has that brute killed you？〃
She looked up and saw Donovan Farrant； he recognized her； but they were both too much absorbed in the poor dog's condition to think of any ordinary greeting。
〃Where will you take him？〃 asked Erica。
Donovan stooped down to examine poor Waif's injuries。
〃I fear there is little to be done；〃 he said。 〃But we might take him across to the chemist's opposite。 Will you hold my whip for me？〃
She took it； and with infinite skill and tenderness Donovan lifted the fox terrier； while Erica hurried on in front to tell the chemist。 They took Waif into a little back room； and did all they could for him； but the chemist shrugged his shoulders。
〃Better kill the poor brute at once； Mr。 Farrant；〃 he said； blandly。
Donovan looked up with a strange gleam in his eyes。
〃Not for the world！〃 he exclaimed； with a touch of indignation in his tone。
And after that he only spoke to Erica； who； seeing that the chemist had annoyed him undertook all the fetching and carrying； never once shrinking though the sight was a horrible one。 At length the footman brought word that Mrs。 Fane…Smith was waiting； and she was obliged to go； reluctantly enough。
〃You'll let me know how he gets on？〃 she said。
〃Yes； indeed；〃 he replied； not thanking her directly for her help； but somehow sending her away with the consciousness that they had passed the bounds of mere acquaintanceship； and were friends for life。
She found that her aunt had been waylaid by Mr。 Cuthbert。
〃If I were the owner of the dog； I should have up our honorable member for assault。 I believe Miss Raeburn broke her umbrella over the poor thing。〃
Erica was just in time to hear this。
〃Were you watching it？〃 she exclaimed。 〃And you did nothing to help the fox terrier？〃
〃I do not feel bound to champion every fighting cur who is getting the worst of it；〃 said Mr。 Cuthbert。 〃What has become of Mr。 Farrant's favorite？ I suppose he is fussing over it instead of studying the affairs of the nation。〃
〃I am afraid the dog is dying；〃 said Erica。
A curious change passed over Mr。 Cuthbert's face； he looked a little shocked； and turned away somewhat hastily。
〃Come；〃 thought Erica to herself； 〃I am glad to have discovered a grain of good in you。〃
The next day was Sunday； it passed by very quietly。 But on the Monday； when Erica opened the 〃Daily Review；〃 there was her 〃Society〃 article staring her in the face。 It was clever and eminently readable； but it was bitterly sarcastic； she could not endure it。 It seemed to her that she had written what was positively bad； calculated to mislead and to awaken bitterness； not in the least likely to mend matters。 The fact was she had written it in a moment of passion and against her conscience； and she regretted it now with far more compunction than she felt for anything she had written in former times in the 〃Idol…Breaker。〃 Then； though indirectly and sometimes directly attacking Christianity； she had written conscientiously； now for the first time she felt that she had dishonored her pen。 She went down into the very deepest depths。
The midday post brought her a letter from her stiff old editor； who understood her better； and thought more of her than she dreamed。 It informed her that another member of the staff had returned from his holiday； and if she pleased she could be exempted from writing for a fortnight。 As usual Mr。 Bircham 〃begged to remain hers faithfully。〃
She hardly knew whether to regard this as a relief or as a punishment。 With a sigh she opened a second letter； it was from Charles Osmond； in reply to a despairing note which she had sent off just before her Saturday interview with Mr。 Fane…Smith。
It was one of his short； characteristic letters。
〃Dear Erica； 'It all comes in the day's work；' as the man said when the lion ate him！ You should have a letter； but I'm up to the eyes in parish maters。 All I can say is pray for that charity which covers the multitude of sins； and then I think you'll find the Greyshot folk become more bearable。 So you have met Donovan at last。 I am right glad！ Your father and I had a long walk together yesterday； he seems very well。 Yours ever； C。 O。〃
This made her smile； and she opened a third letter which ran as follows：
〃My dear Miss Raeburn； I should have called on you last Saturday； but was not well enough to come in to Greyshot。 My husband told me all about your help and your kindness to our Waif。 I know you will be glad to hear that he is going on well； he is much more to us all than an ordinary favorite； some day you shall hear his story。 I am writing now to ask； sans cer