votaries were constantly slandering and ill-treating her father,
and that all the privations and troubles of their life were
directly or indirectly due to it. She, of course, identified the
conduct of the most unfriendly and persecuting with the religion
itself; it could hardly be otherwise.

But tonight as she toiled away, bravely acting up to her lights,
taking down the opponent's speech to the best of her abilities,
though predisposed to think it all a meaningless rhapsody, the
faintest attempt at a question 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