tion began to take shape in her mind. It did not form
itself exactly into words, but just lurked there like a
cloud-shadow--"supposing Christianity were true?"

All doubt is pain. Even this faint beginning of doubt in her creed made
Erica dreadfully uncomfortable. Yet she could not regret that Charles
Osmond had spoken, even though she imagined him to be greatly mistaken,
and feared that that uncomfortable question might have been suggested
to others among the audience. She could not wish that the speech had
not been made, for it had revealed the nobility of the man, his
broad-hearted love, and she instinctively reverenced all the really
great and good, however widely different their creeds.

Brian tried in vain to read her thoughts, but as soon as the meeting was
over her temporary seriousness vanished, and she was once more almost a
child again, ready to be amused by anything. She stood for a few minutes
talking to the two Osmonds; then, catching sight of an acquaintance
a little way off, she bade them a hasty good night, much to Brian's
chagrin, and hurried forward with a warmth of greeting which he could
only hope was appreciated by the thickset, honest-looking mechanic who
was the happy recipient. When they left the hall she was still deep in
conversation with him.

The fates were kind, however, to Brian that day; they were just too late
for a train, and before the next one arrived, Raeburn and Erica were
seen slowly coming down the steps, and in another minute had joined
them on the platform. Charles Osmond and Raeburn fell into an amicable
discussion, and Brian, to his great satisfaction, was left to an
uninterrupted tete-a-tete with Erica. There had been no further
demonstration by the crowd, and Erica, now that the anxiety was over,
was ready to make fun of Mr. Randolph and his band, checking herself
every now and then for fear of hurting her companion, but breaking
forth again and again into irresistible merriment as she recalled the
"alligator" incident and other grotesque utterances. All too soon they
reached their destination. There was still, however, a ten minutes' walk
before them, a walk which Brian never forgot. The wind was high, and it
seemed to excite Erica; he could always remember exactly how she looked,
her eyes bright and shining, her short, auburn hair, all blown about by
the wind, one stray wave lying across the quaint little sealskin hat. He
remembered, too, how, in the middle of his argume