Winner Stories

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in white paper with a lace edge, and thought me a fearful Goth for
preferring this disorderly bunch.
They sat down to breakfast; afterward the morning papers came in,
and Raeburn disappeared behind the Daily Review, while the
servant cleared the table. Erica stood by the open French window;
she knew that in a few minutes she must speak, and how to get what
she had to say into words she did not know. Her heart beat so fast
that she felt almost choked. In a sort of dream of pain she
watched the passersby happy looking girls going down to bathe,
children with spades and pails. Everything seemed so tranquil, so
ordinary while before her lay a duty which must change her whole
world.
Not much news, said Raeburn, coming toward her as the servant
left the room. For dullness commend me to a Monday paper! Well,
Eric, how are we to spend your twentythird birthday? To think
that I have actually a child of twentythree! Why, I ought to feel
an old patriarch, and, in spite of white hair and lifelong
badgering, I don't, you know. Come, what shall we do. Where would
you like to go?
Father, said Erica, I want first to have a talk with you. II
have something to tell you.
There was no longer any mistaking that the seriousness meant some
kind of trouble. Raeburn put his arm round her.
Why, my little girl, he said, tenderly. You are trembling all
over. What is the matter?
The matter is that what I have to say will pain you, and it half
kills me to do that. But there is no choice tell you I must. You
would not wish me not to be true, not to be honest.
Utter perplexity filled Raeburn's mind. What phantom trouble was
threatening him? Had she been commissioned to tell him of some
untoward event? Some business calamity? Had she fallen in love
with some one he could not permit her to marry? He looked
questioningly at her, but her expression only perplexed him still
more; she was trembling no longer, and her eyes were clear and
bright, there was a strong look about her whole face.
Father, she said, quietly, I have learned to believe in Jesus
Christ.
He wrenched away his arm; he started back from her as if she had
stabbed him. For a minute he looked perfectly dazed.
At last, after a silence which seemed to each of them agelong, he
spoke in the agitated voice of one who has just received a great
blow.
Do you know what you are saying, Erica? Do you know what such a
confession as you have made will involve? Do you mean that you
accept the whole of Christ's teaching?

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