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ss　quaint；　less　powerful；　and　less　attractive　the　strangely　winsome　face。　　It　was　only　the　mouth　which　he　did　not　feel　satisfied　with　it　added　character　to　the　face；　but　he　somehow　felt　that　it　betokened　a　nature　not　easily　led；　not　so　gentle　and　pliable　as　he　could　have　wished。　　It　shut　so　very　firmly　and　the　under　lip　was　a　little　thinner　and　straighter　than　the　other　and　receded　a　little　from　it；　giving　the　impression　that　Erica　had　borne　much　suffering；　and　had　exercised　great　self…restraint。

Mrs。　Fane…Smith　saw　in　her　a　sort　of　miniature　and　feminine　edition　of　the　Luke　Raeburn　whom　she　remembered　eight…and…twenty　years　before　in　their　Scottish　home。　　When　Rose　had　gone　into　the　back　drawing　room　to　fetch　her　crewels；　she　drew　Erica　toward　her；　and　kissing　her　again；　said　in　a　low；　almost　frightened　voice：

〃You　are　very　like　what　your　father　was。〃

But　just　at　that　moment　Mr。　Fane…Smith　asked　some　sudden　question；　and　his　wife；　starting　and　　coloring；　as　though　she　had　been　detected　in　wrong…doing；　hurriedly　and　nervously　devoted　herself　to　what　seemed　to　Erica　a　distractingly　round…about　answer。　　By　the　time　it　was　fairly　ended；　dinner　was　announced；　and　the　strangeness　of　the　atmosphere　of　this　new　home　struck　more　and　more　upon　Erica　and　chilled　her　a　little。　　The　massive　grandeur　of　the　old　oak　furniture；　the　huge　oil　paintings；　which　she　wanted　really　to　study；　the　great　silver　candelabra；　even　the　two　footmen　and　the　solemn　old　butler　seemed　to　oppress　her。　　The　luxury　was　almost　burdensome。　　It　was　a　treat　indeed　to　see　and　use　beautiful　glass　and　china；　and　pleasant　to　have　beautiful　fruit　and　flowers　to　look　at；　but　Erica　was　a　bohemian　and　hated　stiff　ceremony　Her　heart　failed　her　when　she　thought　of　sitting　down　night　after　night　to　such　an　interminable　meal。　　Worse　still；　she　had　taken　a　dislike　to　her　host。　　Her　likes　and　dislikes　were　always　characterized　by　Highland　intensity；　and　something　in　her　aunt's　husband　seemed　to　rub　her　the　wrong　way。　　Mr。　Fane…Smith　was　a　retired　Indian　judge；　a　man　much　respected　in　the　religious　world；　and　in　his　way　a　really　good　man；　but　undoubtedly　his　sympathies　were　narrow　and　his　creed　hard。　　Closely　intwined　with　much　true　and　active　Christianity；　he　had　allowed　to　spring　up　a　choking　overgrowth　of　hard　criticism；　of　intolerance；　of　domineering　dogmatism。　　He　was　one　of　those　men　who　go　about　the　world；　trying；　not　to　find　points　of　union　with　all　men；　but　ferreting　out　the　most　trifling　points　of　divergence。　　He　did　this　with　the　best　intentions；　no　doubt；　but　as　Erica's　whole　view　of　life；　and　of　Christian　life　in　particular；　was　the　direct　opposite　of　his；　their　natures　inevitably　jarred。

She　knew　that　it　was　foolish　to　expect　every　Christian　household　to　be　equal　to　the　Osmonds'；　but　nevertheless　a　bitter　sense　of　disappointment　stole　over　her　that　evening。　　Where　was　the　sense　of　restful　unity　which　she　had　looked　forward　to？　　The　new　atmosphere　felt　strange；　the　new　order　of　life　this　luxurious　easy　life　was　hard　to　comprehend。

To　add　to　her　dislike　Mr。　Fane…Smith　was　something　of　an　epicure　and　had　a　most　fastidious　palate。　　Now；　Erica's　father　thought　scarcely　anything　about　what　he　ate　it　was　indeed　upon　record　that　he　had　once　in　a　fit　of　absence　dined　upon　a　plate　of　scraps　intended　for　Friskarina；　while　engaged　in　some　scientific　discussion　with　the　professor。　　Mr。　Fane…Smith；　on　the　other　hand；　though　convinced　that　the　motto　of　all　atheists　was　〃Let　us　eat　and　drink　for　tomorrow　we　die；〃　criticized　his　food　almost　as　severely　as　he　criticized　human　beings。　　The　mulligatawny　was　not　to　his　taste。　　The　curry　was　too　not。　　He　was　sure　the　jelly　was　made　with　that　detestable　stuff　gelatine；　he　wished　his　wife　would　forbid　the　cook　to　use　it　if　she　had　seen　old　horses　being　led　into　a　gelatine　manufactory　as　he　had　seen；　she　would　be　more　particular。

Interspersed　between　these　compliments　was　conversation　which　irritated　Erica　even　more。　　It　was　chiefly　about　the　sayings　and　doings　of　people　whom　she　did　not　know；　and　the　doings　of　some　clergyman　in　a　neighboring　town　seemed　to　receive　severe　censure；　for　Mr。　Fane…Smith　stigmatized　him　as　〃A　most　dangerous　man；　a　Pelagian　in　disguise。〃　However；　he　seemed　to　be　fond　of　labeling　people　with　the　names　of　old　heresies；　for；　presently；　when　Rose　said　something　about　Mr。　Farrant；　her　father　replied　contemptuously：

Every　one　knows；　my　dear；　that　Mr。　Farrant　holds　unorthodox　views。　　Why；　a　few　years　ago　he　was　an　atheist；　and　now　he's　a　mere　Photinian。

As　no　one　but　Mr。　Fane…Smith　had　the　faintest　idea　what　a　〃Photinian〃　meant；　the　accusation　could　neither　be　understood　nor　refuted。　　Mrs。　Fane…Smith　looked　very　uncomfortable；　fearing　that　her　niece　might　feel　hurt　at　the　tone　in　which　〃He　was　an　atheist；〃　had　been　spoken；　and　indeed　Erica's　color　did　rise。

〃Is　that　Mr。　Farrant　the　member？〃　she　asked。

〃Yes；〃　replied　her　aunt；　apprehensively。　　〃Do　you　know　him？〃

〃Not　personally；　but　I　shall　always　honor　him　for　the　splendid　speech　he　made　last　year　on　religious　toleration；〃　said　Erica。

Mr。　Fane…Smith　raised　his　eyebrows　for　the　same　speech　had　made　him　most　indignant。　　However；　he　began　to　realize　that；　before　Erica　could　become　a　patient　recipient　of　his　opinions；　like　his　wife　and　daughter；　he　must　root　out　the　false　ideas　which　evidently　still　clung　to　her。

〃Mr。　Farrant　is　no　doubt　a　reformed　character　now；〃　he　admitted。　　〃But　he　is　far　from　orthodox；　far　from　orthodox！　　At　one　time　I　am　told　that　he　was　one　of　the　wildest　young　fellows　in　the　neighborhood；　no　decent　person　would　speak　to　him；　and　though　no　doubt　he　means　well；　yet　I　could　never　have　confidence　in　such　a　man。〃

〃I　have　heard　a　good　deal　about　him　from　my　friends　the　Osmonds；〃　said　Erica；　stimulated　as　usual　to　side　with　the　abused。　　〃Mr。　Osmond　thinks　him　the　finest　character　he　ever　knew。〃

〃Is　that　the　clergyman　you　told　me　of？〃　interposed　Mrs。　Fane…Smith；　anxious　to　turn　the　conversation。

But　her　husband　threw　in　a　question；　too。

〃What；　Charles　Osmond；　do　you　mean　the　author　of　'Essays　on　Modern　Christianity？〃

〃Yes；〃　replied　Erica。

〃I　don't　know　that　he　is　much　more　orthodox　than　Mr。　Farrant；〃　said　Mr。　Fane…Smith；　〃I　consider　that　he　has　Noetian　tendencies。〃

Erica's　color　rose　and　her　eyes　flashed。

〃I　do　not　know　whether　he　is　what　is　called　orthodox　or　not；〃　she　said；　　〃but　I　do　know　that　he　is　the　most　Christ…like　man　I　ever　met。〃

Mr。　Fane…Smith　looked　uncomfortable。　　He　would　name　any　number　of　heresies　and　heretics；　but；　except　at　grace；　it　was　against　his　sense　of　etiquette　to　speak　the　name　of　Christ　at　table。。　　Even　Rose　looked　surprised；　and　Mrs。　Fane…Smith　colored；　and　at　once　made　the　move　to　go。

On　the　plea　of　fetching　some　work；　Erica　escaped　to　her　own　room；　and　there　tried　to　cool　her　cheeks　and　her　temper；　but　the　idea　of　such　a　man　as　Mr。　Fane…Smith　sitting　in　judgment　on　such　men　as　Mr。　Farrant　and　Charles　Osmond　had　thoroughly　roused　her；　and　she　went　down　still　in　a　dangerous　state　a　touch　would　make　her　anger　blaze　up。

〃Are　you　fond　of　knitting？〃　asked　her　aunt；　making　room　for　her　on　the　sofa；　and　much　relieved　to　find　that　her　niece　was　not　of　the　unfeminine　〃blue〃　order。

〃I　don't　really　like　any　work；〃　said　Erica；　〃but；　of　course；　a　certain　amount　must　be　done；　and　I　like　to　knit　my　father's　socks。〃

Mr。　Fane…Smith；　who　had　just　joined　them；　took　note　of　this　answer；　and　it　seemed　to　surprise　and　displease　him；　though　he　made　no　remark。

〃Did　he　think　that　atheists　didn't　wear　socks？　Or　that　their　daughters　couldn't　knit？〃　thought　Erica　to　herself；　with　a　little　resentful　inward　laugh。

The　fact　was　that　Mr。　Fane…Smith　saw　more　and　more　plainly　that　the　niece　whom　his　wife　was　so　anxious　to　adopt　was　by　no　means　his　ideal　of　a　convert。　　Of　course　he　was　really　and　honestly　thankful　that　she　had　adopted　Christianity；　but　it　chafed　him　sorely　that　she　had　not　exactly　adopted　his　own　views。　　He　was　a　man　absolutely　convinced　that　there　is　but　one　form　of　truth；　and　an　exceedingly　narrow　form　he　made　it；　for　all　mankind。　　He　Mr。　Fane…Smith　had　exactly　grasped　the　whole　truth；　and　whoever　swerved　to　the　right　or　to　the　left；　if　only　by　a　hair's　breadth；　was；　he　considered；　in　a　dangerous　and　lamentable　condition。　　Ah！　He　thought　to　himself；　if　only　he　had　had　from　the　beginning　the　opportunity　of　influencing　Erica；　instead　of　that　dangerously　broad　Charles　Osmond。　　It　did　not　strike　him　that　he　HAD　had　the　opportunity　ever　since　his　return　to　England；　but　had　entirely　declined　to　admit　an　atheist　to　his　house。　　Other　men　had　labored；　and　he　had　entered　into　the　fruit　of　their　labors；　and　not　finding　it　quite　to　his　taste；　fancied　that　he　could　have　managed　much　better。

There　are　few　sadder　things　in　the　world　than　to　see　really　good　and　well…intentioned　men　fighting　for　what　they　consider　the　religious　cause　with　the　devil's　weapons。　　Mr。　Fane…Smith　would　have　been　dismayed　if　any　one　could　have　shown　him　that　all　his　life　he　had　been　struggling　to　suppress　unbelief　by　what　was　infinitely　worse　than　sincere　unbelief　denunciation　often　untrue；　always　unjust；　invariably　uncharitable。　　He　would　have　been　almost　broken…hearted　could　he　ever　have　known　that　his　hard　intolerance；　his　narrowness；　his　domineering　injustice　had　not　deterred　one　soul　from　adopting　the　views　he　abhorred；　but　had；　on　the　contrary；　done　a　great　deal　to　drive　into　atheism　those　who　were　wavering。　　And　this　evening；　even　while　lamenting　that　he　had　not　been　able　to　train　up　his　niece　exactly　in　the　opinions　he　himself　held；　he　was　all　the　time　trying　her　faith　more　severely　than　a　whole　regiment　of　atheists　could　have　tried　it。

The　time　passed　heavily　enough。　　When　two　people　in　the　room　are　unhappy　and　uncomfortable；　a　sense　of　unrest　generally　falls　upon　the　other　occupants。　　Rose　yawned；　talked　fitfully　about　the　gayeties　of　the　coming　week；　worked　half　a　leaf　on　an　antimacassar；　and　sang　three　or　four　silly　little　coquettish　songs　which　somehow　jarred　on　every　one。

Mrs。　Fane…Smith；　feeling　anxious　and　harassed；　afraid　alike　of　vexing　her　husband　and　offending　her　niece；　talked　kindly　and　laboriously。　　Erica　turned　the　heel　of　her　sock　and　responded　as　well　as　she　could；　her　sensitiveness　r