member telling him that our name of freethinkers was a reality, and
so it shall still be! She shall be free to think the untrue is true;
she shall be free to confess herself a Christian before the whole world,
though it deal me the hardest of blows."

This letter soon spread the news. Aunt Jean was too much vexed and not
deeply grieved enough to keep silence. Vexation finds some relief in
talking, deep grief as a rule prefers not to speak. Tom, in his odd way,
felt the defection of his favorite cousin as much as anybody, except
Raeburn himself. They had been play-fellows, they had always been like
brother and sister together, and he was astounded to think that Erica,
of all people in the world, should have deserted the cause. The letter
had come by one of the evening posts. He went out and paced up and down
the square in the soft midsummer twilight, trying to realize the facts
of the case. Presently he heard rapid steps behind him; no one walked
at that pace excepting Brian, and Tom was quite prepared to feel an arm
link itself within his.

"Hallo, old fellow!" exclaimed Brian. "Moonlight meditations?"

"Where did you drop from?" said Tom, evasively.

"Broken leg, round the corner a public-house row. What brutes men are!"
exclaimed the young doctor, hotly.

"Disappointing world altogether," said Tom with a sigh. "What do you
think we have just heard about Erica?"

Brian's heart almost stopped beating; he hardly knew what he feared.

"How can I tell?" he answered, hoarsely. "No bad news, I hope?"

"She's gone and turned Christian," said Tom, in a tone of deep disgust.

Brian started.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed, under his breath.

"Confound it!" cried Tom. "I'd forgot you'd be triumphant. Good night,"
and he marched off in high dudgeon.

Brian did not even miss him. How could he at such a time? The weight
of years had been lifted off his soul. A consuming happiness took
possession of him; his whole being was a thanksgiving. By and by he
went home, found his father in the study, and was about to speak, when
Charles Osmond put an open letter into his hand. While Raeburn had
written to his sister, Erica had written to her "prophet" a sad, happy,
quaint letter exactly like herself. Its straightforward simplicity
brought the tears to Brian's eyes.

"It will be a fearful life for her now!" he exclaimed. "She will never
be able to endure it. Father, now at last I may surely speak to her."

He spoke very eagerly.