nd his love seemed to engrave itself on his heart; no minutest detail
of that evening escaped him.

He saw the tall, commanding figure of the orator, the vast sea of
upturned faces below, the eager attention imprinted on all, sometimes a
wave of sympathy and approval sweeping over them, resulting in a storm
of applause, at times a more divided disapproval, or a shout of "No,
no," which invariably roused the speaker to a more vigorous, clear, and
emphatic repetition of the questioned statement. And, through all, he
was ever conscious of the young girl at his side, who, with her head
bent over her notebook, was absorbed in her work. While the most vital
questions of life were being discussed, he was yet always aware of that
hand traveling rapidly to and fro, of the pages hurriedly turned, of the
quick yet weary-looking change of posture.

Though not without a strong vein of sarcasm, Raeburn's speech was,
on the whole, temperate; it certainly should have been met with
consideration. But, unfortunately, Mr. Randolph was incapable of seeing
any good in his opponent; his combative instincts were far stronger than
his Christianity, and Brian, who had winced many times while listening
to the champion of atheism, was even more keenly wounded by the champion
of his own cause. Abusive epithets abounded in his retort; at last
he left the subject under discussion altogether, and launched into
personalities of the most objectionable kind. Raeburn sat with folded
arms, listening with a sort of cold dignity. He looked very different
now from the genial-mannered, quiet man whom Charles Osmond had seen in
his own home but an hour or two ago. There was a peculiar look in his
tawny eyes hardly to be described in words, a look which was hard, and
cold, and steady. It told of an originally sensitive nature inured to
ill treatment; of a strong will which had long ago steeled itself to
endure; of a character which, though absolutely refusing to yield to
opposition, had grown slightly bitter, even slightly vindictive in the
process.

Brian could only watch in silent pain the little figure beside him. Once
at some violent term of abuse she looked up, and glanced for a moment
at the speaker; he just caught a swift, indignant flash from her bright
eyes, then her head was bent lower than before over her notebook, and
the carnation deepened in her cheek, while her pencil sped over the
paper fast and furiously. Presently came a sharp retort from Ra