f
most touching devotion from the people for whom, however mistakenly,
he had labored with unwearying patience and zeal. Erica saw only too
plainly that Mr. Pogson was, in truth, fighting against Christianity,
and every day brought fresh proofs of the injury done to Christ's cause
by this modern instance of injustice and religious intolerance.

It was a terribly trying position, and any one a degree less brave and
sincere would probably have lost all faith; but the one visible good
effected by that miserable struggle was the strange influence it exerted
in developing her character. She was one of those who seem to grow
exactly in proportion to the trouble they have had to bear. And so it
came to pass that, while evil was wrought in many quarters, in this one
good resulted good not in the least understood by Raeburn, or Aunt Jean,
or Tom, who merely knew that Erica was less hot and hasty than in former
times, and found it more of a relief than ever to come home to her
loving sympathy.

"After all," they used to say, "the miserable delusion hasn't been able
to spoil her."

One day, just after the court had reassembled in the afternoon, Erica
was putting the finishing touches to a very sprightly criticism on a
certain political speech, when suddenly she heard the name, for which
she had waited so long, called in the clerk's most sonorous tones "Erica
Raeburn!"

She was conscious of a sudden white flash as every face in the crowded
court turned towards her, but more conscious of a strong Presence
which seemed to wrap her in a calm so perfect that the disagreeable
surroundings became a matter of very slight import. Here were hostile
eyes, indeed; but she was strong enough to face all the powers of evil
at once. A sort of murmur ran through the court as she entered the
witness box, but she did not heed it any more than she would have heeded
the murmur of the summer wind without. She just stood there, strong
in her truth and purity, able, if need be, to set a whole world at
defiance.

"Pogson's made a mistake in calling her," said a briefless barrister
to one of his companions in adversity; they both spent their lives
in hanging about the courts, thankful when they could get a bit of
"deviling."

"Right you are!" replied the other, putting up his eyeglass to look at
Erica, and letting it drop after a brief survey. "I'd bet twenty to one
that girl loses him his case. And I'm hanged if he doesn't deserve to."

"Well, i