 the interest of hearing your view of the question kept me silent. You must forgive me, and as you know I am too nice to be a clergyman—"
"Oh, I beg your pardon. How rude I have been," cried Erica, blushing anew; "but you did make me say it."
"Of course, and I take it as a high compliment from you," said Charles Osmond, laughing again at the recollection. "Come, may we not seal our friendship? We have been sufficiently frank with each other to be something more than acquaintances for the future."
Erica held out her hand and found it taken in a strong, firm clasp, which somehow conveyed much more than an ordinary handshake.
"And, after all, you ARE too nice for a clergyman!" she thought to herself. Then, as a fresh idea crossed her mind, she suddenly exclaimed: "But you came to tell us about Mr. Randolph's roughs, did you not? How came you to care that we should know beforehand?"
"Why, naturally I hoped that a disturbance might be stopped."
"Is it natural?" questioned Erica. "I should have thought it more natural for you to think with your own party."
"But peace and justice and freedom of speech must all stand before party questions."
"Yet you think that we are wrong, and that Christianity is right?"
"Yes, but to my mind perfect justice is part of Christianity."
"Oh," said Erica, in a tone which meant unutterable things.
"You think that Christians do not show perfect justice to you?" said Charles Osmond, reading her thoughts.
"I can't say I think they do," she replied. Then, suddenly firing up at the recollection of her afternoon's experiences, she said: "They are not just to us, though they preach justice; they are not loving, though they talk about love. If they want us to think their religion true, I wonder they don't practice it a little more and preach it less. What is the use of talking of 'brotherly kindness and charity,' when they hardly treat us like human beings, when they make up wicked lies about us, and will hardly let us sit in the same room with them!"
"Come, now, we really are sitting in the same room," said Charles Osmond, smiling.
"Oh, dear, what am I to do!" exclaimed Erica. "
