rk as usual, her table strewn with
papers and books of reference. Raeburn had purposely left her some work
to do for him which he knew would fully occupy her; but the mere fact
that she knew he had done it on purpose to engross her mind with other
matters entirely prevented her from giving it her full attention. She
had never felt more thankful to see Charles Osmond than at that moment.

"When your whole heart and mind are in Hyde Park, how are you to drag
them back to what some vindictive old early Father said about the
eternity of punishment?" she exclaimed, with a smile, which very thinly
disguised her consuming anxiety.

They sat down near the open window, Erica taking possession of that
side which commanded the view of the entrance of the cul-de-sac. Charles
Osmond did not speak for a minute or two, but sat watching her, trying
to realize to himself what such anxiety as hers must be. She was
evidently determined to keep outwardly calm, not to let her fears gain
undue power over her; but she could not conceal the nervous trembling
which beset her at every sound of wheels in the quiet square, nor
did she know that in her brave eyes there lurked the most visible
manifestation possible of haggard, anxious waiting. She sat with her
watch in her hand, the little watch that Eric Haeberlein had given
her when she was almost a child, and which, even in the days of their
greatest poverty, her father had never allowed her to part with. What
strange hours it had often measured for her. Age-long hours of grief,
weary days of illness and pain, times of eager expectation, times of
sickening anxiety, times of mental conflict, of baffling questions and
perplexities. How the hands seemed to creep on this afternoon, at times
almost to stand still.

"Now, I suppose if you were in my case you would pray," said Erica,
raising her eyes to Charles Osmond. "It must be a relief, but yet, when
you come to analyze it, it is most illogical a fearful waste of time. If
there is a God who works by fixed laws, and who sees the whole maze of
every one's life before hand, then the particular time and manner of my
father's death must be already appointed, and no prayer of mine that
he may come safely through this afternoon's danger can be of the least
avail. Besides, if a God could be turned round from His original purpose
by human wills and much speaking, I hardly think He would be worth
believing in."

"You are taking the lowest view of prayer