ought infinitely less of the quixotic Haeberlein whom she had,
nevertheless, loved very sincerely than of her sorely overtasked father.
He was evidently in dread of breaking down, and it was with the greatest
difficulty that he got through his oration. To all present the sight
was a most painful one and, although the musical voice was hoarse and
strained, seeming, indeed, to tear out each sentence by sheer force of
will, the orator had never carried his audience more completely with
him. Their tears were, however, more for the living than for the dead;
for the man who was struggling with all his might to restrain his
emotion, painfully spurring on his exhausted powers to fulfill the duty
in hand. More than once Erica thought he would have fainted, and she
was fully prepared for the small crowd of friends who gathered round her
afterward, begging her to persuade him to rest. The worst of it was that
she could see no prospect of rest for him, though she knew how sorely he
longed for it. He spoke of it as they drove home.

"I've an almost intolerable longing for quiet," he said to her. "Do you
remember Mill's passage about the two main constituents of a satisfied
life excitement and tranquillity? How willingly would I change places
today with that Tyrolese fellow whom we saw last year!"

"Oh! If we could but go to the Tyrol again!" exclaimed Erica; but
Raeburn shook his head.

"Out of the question just now, my child; but next week when this
blasphemy trial is over, I must try to get a few days' holiday that is
to say, if I don't find myself in prison."

She sighed the sigh of one who is burdened almost beyond endurance. For
recent events had proved to her, only too plainly, that her confidence
that no jury would be found to convict a man under the old blasphemy
laws was quite mistaken.

That evening, however, her thoughts were a little diverted from her
father. For the first time for many months she had a letter from Rose.
It was to announce her engagement to Captain Golightly. Rose seemed very
happy, but there was an undertone of regret about the letter which was
uncomfortably suggestive of her flirtation with Tom. Also there were
sentences which, to Erica, were enigmatical, about "having been so
foolish last summer," and wishing that she "could live that Brighton
time over again." All she could do was to choose the time and place for
telling Tom with discrimination. No opportunity presented itself till
late in the e