well believe it," said Donovan. Then, after a pause, he added,
"To induce Christians to take a fair, unprejudiced look at true
secularism and to induce secularists to take a fair, unprejudiced view
of true Christ-following, seems to me to be the great need of today."

"If one could!" said Erica, with a long-drawn sigh.

"If any one can, you can," he replied.

She looked up at him quickly, awed by the earnestness of his tone. Was
she a young girl, conscious of so many faults and failings, conscious of
being at the very threshold herself to dare even to attempt such a task?
Yet was it a question of daring to attempt? Was it not rather the bit
of work mapped out for her, to undertake, perhaps to fail in, but still
bravely to attempt? He heart throbbed with eager yearning, as the vision
rose before her. What was mere personal pain? What was injustice? What
was misunderstanding? Why, in such a cause she could endure anything.

"I would die to help on that!" she said in a low voice.

"Will you live for it?" asked Donovan, with his rare, beautiful smile.
"Live, and do something more than endure the Lady Carolines and Mr.
Cuthberts?"

Few things are more inspiriting that the realization that we are called
to some special work which will need our highest faculties, our untiring
exertions which will demand all that is good in us, and will make growth
in good imperative. With the peacefulness of that country Sunday was
interwoven a delicious perception that hard, beautiful work lay beyond.
Erica wandered about the shady Mountshire woods with Gladys and the
children, and in the cool restfulness, in the stillness and beauty, got
a firm hold on her lofty ideal, and rose about the petty vexations and
small frictions which had been spoiling her life at Greyshot.

The manor grounds were always thrown open to the public on Sunday, and
a band in connection with one of the temperance societies played on
the lawn. Donovan had been much persecuted by the Sabbatarians for
sanctioning this; but, though sorry to offend any one, he could not
allow what he considered mistaken scruples to interfere with such a boon
to the public. Crowds of workingmen and women came each week away from
their densely packed homes into the pure country; the place was for the
time given up to them, and they soon learned to love it, to look upon it
as a property to which they had a real and recognized share.

Squire Ward, who owned the neighboring estate, grumb