As far as society goes, they succeeded in thus shifting the blame;the world laid it all on Luke Raeburn, he was a most convenient scapegoat, and so widely does conventional Christianity differ from the religion founded by Christ it soon became among a certain set almost equivalent to a religious act to promulgate bits of personal scandal about him, flavored, of course, with wordy lamentations as to the views he entertained.Thus, under the name of defenders of religion, conventional Christians managed to appear very proper and orthodox, and at the same time to dispose comfortably of all their sense of responsibility.There was a meanness about their way of doing it which might have made the very angels weep! Happily the judgments of society are not the judgments of God.
One of the leaders of society was a certain Lady Caroline Kiteley;she was a good-natured, hospitable creature, very anxious that every one should enjoy life, and a great favorite with all the young people, because she made much of them and gave delightful dances.The elders, too, liked her, and were not oblivious to the fact that she was the daughter of an earl, and the widow of a distinguished general.Erica had seen her more than once during her visit, and had been introduced to her by Mrs.Fane-Smith, as "my niece."Now it happened that Mr.And Mrs.Fane-Smith and Rose were to dine with Lady Caroline the week after Erica's arrival.On the very day of the dinner party, however, Rose was laid up with a bad cold, and her mother was obliged to write and make her excuses.Late in the afternoon there came in reply one of Lady Caroline's impulsive notes.
"Dear Mrs.Fane-Smith, Scold that silly daughter of yours for catching cold; give her my love, and tell her that I was counting on her very much.Please bring your pretty niece instead.Yours sincerely, Caroline Kiteley."Mrs.Fane-Smith was glad and sorry at the same time, and very much perplexed.Such a peremptory but open-hearted invitation could not be declined, yet there were dangers in the acceptance.If Erica's name should transpire, it might be very awkward, but she had not broached the suggested change of name to her, and every day her courage dwindled every day that resolute mouth frightened her more.
She was quite aware that Erica's steady, courageous honesty would unsparingly condemn all her small weaknesses and little expedients.
Erica, when told of the invitation, was not particularly anxious to go, for she and Rose had been planning a cozy evening at home over a new novel upon which their tastes really agreed.However, Rose assured her that Lady Caroline's parties were always delightful, and hunted her off to dress at least an hour before there was any necessity.Rose was a great authority on dress and, when her cousin returned, began to study her attire critically.
She wore a very simply made dress of moss-green velveteen, high to the throat, and relieved by a deep falling collar of old point.
Elspeth had brought her a spray of white banksia roses, but otherwise she wore no ornament.Her style was very different from her cousin's; but Rose could not help approving of it, its severity suited Erica.
"You look lovely!" she exclaimed."Lady Caroline will quite lose her heart to you! I think you should have that dress cut low in front, though.It is a shame not to show such a pretty neck as you must have.""Oh, no!" said Erica, quickly; "father can't endure low dresses.""One can't always dress to please one's father," said Rose."For the matter of that, I believe papa doesn't like them; but I always wear them.You see it is more economical, one must dress much more expensively if one goes in for high dresses.A little display of neck and arms, and any old rag will look dressy and fashionable, and though I don't care about economy, mamma does.""You don't have an allowance, then?"
"No; papa declared I ought to dress on eighty pounds a year, but Inever could make both ends meet, and I got a tiresome long bill at Langdon's, and that vexed him, so now I get what I like and mamma pays."Erica made no comment, but was not a little amazed.Presently Mrs.
Fane-Smith came in, and seemed well pleased with her niece's appearance.
"You have the old point!" she exclaimed.
"Aunt Jean gave it to me," said Erica."She never would part with it because it was grandmamma's at least, she did sell it once, when father was ill years ago, and we were at our wit's end for money, but she got it back again before the end of the year."Mrs.Fane-Smith colored deeply, partly at the idea of her mother's lace being taken to a pawnbroker's, partly to hear that her brother and sister had ever been reduced to such straits.She made an excuse to take Erica away to her room, and there questioned her more than she had yet done about her home.
"I thought your father was so strong," she said."Yet you speak as if he had had several illnesses.""He has," replied Erica."Twice I can remember the time when they thought him dying, besides after the riot last year.Yes, he is strong, but, you see, he has such a hard life.It is bad enough now, and I doubt if any one knows how fearfully he overworked himself during the year in America.The other day I had to look something up in his diary for him, and not till then did I find out how terribly he must have taxed his strength.On an average he got one night's rest in the week, on the others he slept as well as he could in the long cars, which are wretchedly uncomfortable; the sleeping cars being expensive, he wouldn't go in them."Mrs.Fane-Smith sighed.Her brother was becoming more of a living reality to her; she thought of him less as a type of wickedness.
