ke to get there by
nine, then you don't have to wait such an age for your books; I can't
bear waiting."

"What are you at work upon now?"

"Oh, today for the last time I am going to hunt up particulars about
Livingstone. Hazeldine was very anxious that a series of papers on his
life should be written for our people. What a grand fellow he was!"

"I heard a characteristic anecdote of him the other day," said Charles
Osmond. "He was walking beside one of the African lakes which he had
discovered, when suddenly there dawned on him a new meaning to long
familiar words: 'The blood of Christ,' he exclaimed. 'That must be
Charity! The blood of Christ that must be Charity!' A beautiful thought,
too seldom practically taught."

Erica looked grave.

"Characteristic, certainly, of his broad-heartedness, but I don't think
that anecdote will do for the readers of the 'Idol-Breaker.'" Then,
looking up at Charles Osmond, she added in a rather lower tone: "Do
you know, I had no idea when I began what a difficult task I had got. I
thought in such an active life as that there would be little difficulty
in keeping the religious part away from the secular, but it is wonderful
how Livingstone contrives to mix them up."

"You see, if Christianity be true, it must, as you say, 'mix up' with
everything. There should be no rigid distinction between secular and
religious," said Charles Osmond.

"If it is true," said Erica, suddenly, and with seeming irrelevance,
"then sooner or later we must learn it to be so. Truth MUST win in the
end. But it is worse to wait for perfect certainty than for books at
the museum," she added, laughing. "It is five minutes to nine I shall be
late."

Charles Osmond walked home thoughtfully; the meeting had somehow cheered
him.

"Absolute conviction that truth must out that truth must make itself
perceptible. I've not often come across a more beautiful faith than
that. Yes, little Undine, right you are. 'Ye shall know the truth, and
the truth shall make you free.' Here or there, here or there

'All things come round to him who will but wait.'

There's one for yourself, Charles Osmond. None of your hurrying and
meddling now, old man; you've just got to leave it to your betters."

Soliloquizing after this fashion he reached home, and was not sorry to
find his breakfast awaiting him, for he had been up the greater part of
the night.

The great domed library of the British Museum had become very home