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Mr. Cuthbert smiled a quietly superior smile, and coolly surveyed
Erica as she came in. Dinner was announced almost immediately, and
it was not until Mrs. FaneSmith had been taken down that Lady
Caroline brought Mr. Cuthbert to Erica's side to introduce
him.Why, your aunt has never told me your name, she said,
smiling.
My name is Erica Raeburn, said Erica, quite unconscious that this
was a revelation to every one, and that her aunt had purposely
spoken of her everywhere as my niece.
Lady Caroline gave a scarcely perceptible start of surprise, and
there was a curious touch of doubt and constraint in her voice as
she pronounced the Mr. Cuthbert Miss Raeburn. Undoubtedly that
name sounded rather strangely in her drawing room, and awoke
uncomfortable suggestions..
Raeburn! Erica Raeburn! thought Mr. Cuthbert to himself.
Uncommon name in England. Connection, I wonder! Aunt hadn't
given her name! That looks odd. I'll see if she has a Scotch
accent.
Are you staying in Greyshot? he asked as they went down the broad
staircase, with its double border of flowering plants.
Yes, said Erica; I came last week. What lovely country it is
about here!
Country, with its thrilled r, betrayed her nationality, though
her accent was of the slightest. Mr. Cuthbert chuckled to himself,
for he thought he had caught Mrs. FaneSmith tripping, and he was
a man who derived an immense amount of pleasure from making other
people uncomfortable. As a child, he had been a tease; as a big
boy, he had been a bully; as a man, he had become a malicious
gossip monger. Tonight he thought he saw a chance of good sport,
and directly he had said grace, in the momentary pause which
usually follows, he turned to Erica with an abrupt, though
outwardly courteous question, carried off with a little laugh.
I hope you are no relation to that despicable infidel who bears
your name, Miss Raeburn?
Erica's color deepened; she almost annihilated him with a flash
from her bright indignant eyes.
I am Luke Raeburn's daughter, she said, in her clearest voice,
and with a dignity which, for the time, spoiled Mr. Cuthbert's
enjoyment.
Many people had heard the vicar's question during the pause, and
not a few listened curiously for the answer which, though quietly
spoken, reached many ears, for nothing gives so much penetrating
power to words as concentrated will and keen indignation. Before
long every one in the room knew that Mrs. FaneSmith's pretty niece
was actually the daughter of that evil and notorious Raeburn.
Mr. Cuthbert had certainly got his malicious wish; he had succeeded
in making Mrs. FaneSmith miserable, in making his hostess
furious, in putting his little neighbor into the most uncomfortable
of positions. Of course he was not going to demean himself by

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