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to give the lie direct. Her quiet return question, her dignity,
made it impossible for him to insult her openly. He was at her
mercy. He colored a little, stammered something incoherent about
thinking it possible.
You are perfectly right, replied Erica, still speaking in her
quietly dignified voice. I have known Herr Haeberlein since I was
a baby, so you will understand that it is quite impossible for me
to speak with you about him after hearing the opinions you
expressed just now.
For once in his life Mr. Cuthbert felt ashamed of himself. He did
not feel comfortable all through dessert, and gave a sigh of relief
when the ladies left the room.
As for Erica's other neighbor, he could not help reflecting that
Luke Raeburn's daughter had had the best of it in the encounter.
And he wondered a little that a man, whom he had known to do many
a kindly action, should so completely have forgotten the rules of
ordinary courtesy.
Then, my friend, we must not regard what the many say of us; but
what he, the one man who has understanding of just and unjust, will
say, and what the truth will say. And therefore you begin in error
when you suggest that we should regard the opinion of the many
about just and unjust, good and evil, honorable and dishonorable.
Plato.
In the drawing room Erica found the ostracism even more complete
and more embarrassing. Lady Caroline who was evidently much
annoyed, took not the slightest notice of her, but was careful to
monopolize the one friendly looking person in the room, a young
married lady in paleblue silk. The other ladies separated into
groups of two and threes, and ignored her existence. Lady
Caroline's little girl, a child of twelve, was well bred enough to
come toward her with some shy remark, but her mother called her to
the other side of the room quite sharply, and made some excuse to
keep her there, as if contact with Luke Raeburn's daughter would
have polluted her.
A weary half hour passed. Then the door opened, and the gentlemen
filed in. Erica, half angry, half tired, and wholly miserable, was
revolving in her brain some stinging sentences for her article when
the beautiful face again checked her. Her Roman, as she called
him, had come in, and was looking round the room, apparently
searching for some one. At last their eyes met, and, with a look
which said as plainly as words: Oh, there you are! It was you I
wanted, he came straight towards her.
You must forgive me, Miss Raeburn, for dispensing with an
introduction, he said; but I hardly think we shall need any
except the name of our mutual fried, Charles Osmond.

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