ing his card to one of Sir Algernon's companions, he strode out of
the hall.

By the time he reached Guilford Square he was almost himself again, a
little paler than usual but outwardly quite calm. He went at once to
No. 16. The Raeburns had now been settled in their new quarters for
some weeks, and the house was familiar enough to him; he went up to the
drawing room or, as it was usually called, the green room. The gas was
not lighted, but a little reading lamp stood upon a table in one of the
windows, and the fire light made the paneled walls shine here and there
though the corners and recesses were all in dusky shadow. Erica had made
this the most home-like room in the house; it had the most beguiling
easy chairs, it had all Mr. Woodward's best pictures, it had fascinating
little tables, and a tempting set of books. There was something in the
sight of the familiar room which made Brian's wrath flame up once more.
Erica's guileless life seemed to rise before him the years of patient
study, the beautiful filial love, the pathetic endeavor to restrain her
child-like impatience of conventionalities lest scandalmongers should
have even a shadow of excuse for slandering Luke Raeburn's daughter. The
brutality of the insult struck him more than ever. Erica, glancing
up from her writing table, saw that his face again bore that look of
intolerable pain which had so greatly startled her in Westminster Hall.

She had more than half dreaded his arrival, had been wondering how they
should meet after the strange revelation of the afternoon, had been
thinking of the most trite and commonplace remark with which she might
greet him. But when it actually came to the point, she could not say a
word, only looked up at him with eyes full of anxious questioning.

"It is all right," he said, answering the mute question, a great joy
thrilling him as he saw that she had been anxious about him. "You should
not have been afraid."

"I couldn't help it," she said, coloring, "he is such a hateful man! A
man who might do anything. Tell me what happened."

"I gave him a thrashing which he'll not soon forget," said Brian. "But
don't let us speak of him any more."

"Perhaps he'll summons you!" said Erica.

"He won't dare to. He knows that he deserved it. What are you writing?
You ought to be resting."

"Only copying out my article. The boy will be here before long."

"I am your doctor," he said, feeling her pulse, and again assuming his
auth