with you. I--I have
something to tell you."

There was no longer any mistaking that the seriousness meant some kind
of trouble. Raeburn put his arm round her.

"Why, my little girl," he said, tenderly. "You are trembling all over.
What is the matter?"

"The matter is that what I have to say will pain you, and it half kills
me to do that. But there is no choice tell you I must. You would not
wish me not to be true, not to be honest."

Utter perplexity filled Raeburn's mind. What phantom trouble was
threatening him? Had she been commissioned to tell him of some untoward
event? Some business calamity? Had she fallen in love with some one he
could not permit her to marry? He looked questioningly at her, but her
expression only perplexed him still more; she was trembling no longer,
and her eyes were clear and bright, there was a strong look about her
whole face.

"Father," she said, quietly, "I have learned to believe in Jesus
Christ."

He wrenched away his arm; he started back from her as if she had stabbed
him. For a minute he looked perfectly dazed.

At last, after a silence which seemed to each of them age-long, he spoke
in the agitated voice of one who has just received a great blow.

"Do you know what you are saying, Erica? Do you know what such a
confession as you have made will involve? Do you mean that you accept
the whole of Christ's teaching?

"Yes," she replied, firmly, "I do."

"You intend to turn Christian?"

"Yes, to try to."

"How long have you and Mr. Osmond been concocting this?"

"I don't know what you mean," said Erica, terribly wounded by his tone.

"Did he send you down here to tell me?"

"Mr. Osmond knows nothing about it," said Erica. "How could I tell any
one before you, father?"

Raeburn was touched by this. He took several turns up and down the room
before speaking again, but the more he grasped the idea the deeper grew
his grief and the hotter his anger. He was a man of iron will, however,
and he kept both under. When at length he did speak, his voice was quiet
and cold and repressed.

"Sit down," he said, motioning her to a chair. "This is not a subject
that we can dismiss in five minutes' talk. I must hear your reasons. We
will put aside all personal considerations. I will consider you just as
an ordinary opponent."

His coldness chilled her to the heart. Was it always to be like this?
How could she possibly endure it? How was she to answer his questions
how was she to v