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aunted him。 There was nothing stern in this dead face。 It was still and passionless； bearing the look of repose which； spite of a harassed life； it had always borne in moments of leisure。 He hardly looked as though he were dead。 Erica could almost have fancied that he was but resting after the toils of a hard day； having fallen asleep for a few minutes； as she had often seen him in his arm chair on a Sunday evening。
Mr。 Fane…Smith did not say a word； his eyes wandered from the calm face to the still hands which clasped some sprigs of his native heather； the heather which Donovan's children had sent only the day before； but just in time to win one of his last smiles。 Donovan and Erica spoke together in low tones； but something in the sound of that 〃gravened〃 voice arrested Mr。 Fane…Smith's attention。 He had not heard what had passed before； and there was nothing special in the words that fell now upon his ear； it was rather that his own soul was in a state of receptivity； and so through the first channel that came to hand he was able to receive a new truth。
〃I am only his child； God is his Father。〃
And there； by the lifeless body of Luke Raeburn； one； who during his life had judged him with the very hardest judgment； learned for the first time what Fatherhood means。
As long as there was anything to be done； Erica struggled on although the days were terribly hard and were rendered infinitely harder by the sort of publicity which attended them。 There was the necessity of appearing at the inquest； there was the necessity of reading every word that was written about her father。 She could not help reading the papers； could not keep her hands off them； though even now most cruel things were said。 There was the necessity of attending the great public funeral in London； of seeing the thousands of grief…stricken people； of listening to the professor's words so broken with sobs that they could hardly be heard。 A week later there was the necessity of going down to the Ashborough assizes to appear as a witness in the trial of Drosser。
〃What do you feel toward this man？〃 some one asked her once。
〃A great pity；〃 she replied。 〃It is not nearly so hard for me to forgive this poor fanatic as to forgive those who have taught him his dark creed； or to forgive those who； while calling themselves Christians； have hated my father with the hatred that is quite as bad as murder。〃
But when the trial was over and there was no longer any necessity to do anything； Erica suddenly broke down。 She had never till now yielded though not a night had passed in which she had not been haunted by the frightful recollections of that Sunday evening and the days following。 But the evening she returned from Ashborough she could hold out no longer。
Very quietly she bore that sad return to the empty house； going into all the familiar rooms and showing no sign of grief； because those she loved were with her； watching her with the anxious solicitude which people cannot help showing at such a time though it is usually more of a trial than a comfort。 Erica longed inexpressibly to be alone； and when at length； deceived by her unnatural calm； they were persuaded to leave her； she crept down to the study and shut herself in； and no longer tried to resist the inevitable； the mere surroundings were quite sufficient to open the flood gates of her grief； the books which her father had loved； the table； the empty chair； the curious cactus which they had brought back from Italy； and in the growth of which they had taken such an interest！ the desk at which her father had toiled for so many long years。 She hid her face from the light and broke into a passionate fit of weeping。 Then exhausted； nerveless； powerless； she could no longer cope with that anguish of remembrance which was her nightly torment。 Once more there rose before her that horrible scene in the Ashborough market place； once more she could see the glare of light； the huge crowd； the sudden treacherous movement； the fall； once more she heard the crash； the hushed murmur； once more felt the wild struggle to get through that pushing； jostling throng that she might somehow reach him。 That nightmare recollection only gave place to a yet more painful one； to the memory of days of such agony that to recall them was almost to risk her reason。 She had struggled bravely not to dwell upon these things； but this night her strength was gone； she could do nothing； and Brian； coming at last to seek her； found that the climax he had long foreseen had come。
〃Oh；〃 she sobbed； 〃if you love me； Brian； be willing to let me go！ Don't pray for me to live！ Promise that you will not！〃
A shade came over Brian's face。 Was the dead father still to absorb all her love？ Must he even now resign all to him？ Lose Erica at last after these long years of waiting！ There was a look of agony in his eyes； but he answered quietly and firmly：
〃I will pray only that God's will may be done； darling。〃
A sort of relief was apparent in Erica's flushed； tear…stained face as though he had given her leave to be ill。
After that； for long； weary weeks； she lay at the very gate of death； and those who watched by her had not the heart to wish her back to life again。
CHAPTER XLII。 A New Year's Dawn
And the murky planets； I perceived； were but cradles for the infant spirits of the universe of light 。 。 。 。 And in sight of this immeasurability of life no sadness could endure 。 。 。 。 And I exclaimed； Oh！ How beautiful is death； seeing that we die in a world of life and of creation without end！ And I blessed God for my life upon earth； but much more for the life in those unseen depths of the universe which are comprised of all but the Supreme Reality； and where no earthly life or perishable hope can enter。 Richter
For many weeks Erica had scarcely a conscious interval。 Now and then she had been dimly aware that Brian was in the room； or that Aunt Jean； and Mrs。 MacNaughton； and her many secularist friends were nursing her； but all had been vague； dream…like； seen through the distorting fever…mist。 On night； however； she woke after a sleep of many hours to see things once more as they really were。 There was her little room with its green…paneled walls； and its familiar pictures； and familiar books。 There was Aunt Jean sitting beside the fire； turning over the pages of an 〃Idol…Breaker；〃 while all the air seemed to be ringing and echoing with the sound of church bells。
〃Auntie；〃 she said； 〃what day is it？〃
Aunt Jean came at once to her bedside。
〃It is New Year's day；〃 she said； 〃it struck twelve about five minutes ago； dear。〃
Erica made no comment though the words brought back to her the sense of her desolation brought back to her； too； the remembrance of another New Year's day long ago when she had stood beside her father on the deck of the steamer； and the bells of Calais had gayly pealed in spite of her grief。 She took the food her aunt brought her； and promised to go to sleep once more。
〃I shall have to wake up again in this misery！〃 she thought to herself。 〃Oh； if one could only sleep right on！〃
But God sometimes saves us from what we have most dreaded； and when at sunrise Erica