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y　you're　on　a　Scottish　mountain。　　Brian　deserves　anything　for　sending　us　to　the　land　of　heather；　it　makes　me　feel　like　a　boy　again。〃

The　three　miles　were　all　too　short　to　please　them；　but　at　last　they　reached　the　little　village　of　Milford　and　were　set　down　at　a　compact…looking　white　house　known　as　Under　the　Oak。

〃That　direction　is　charming；〃　said　Raeburn；　laughing；　〃imagine　your　business　letters　sent　from　the　'Daily　Review'　office　to　'Miss　Raeburn；　Under　the　Oak；　Milford！'　　They'll　think　we're　living　in　a　tent。　　You'll　be　nicknamed　Deborah！〃

It　was　not　until　the　next　morning　that　they　fully　understood　the　appropriateness　of　the　direction。　　The　little　white　house　had　been　built　close　to　the　grand　old　oak　which　was　the　pride　of　Milford。　　It　was　indeed　a　giant　of　its　kind；　there　was　something　wonderfully　fine　about　its　vigorous　spread　of　branches　and　its　enormous　girth。　　Close　by　was　a　peaceful…looking　river；　flowing　between　green　banks　fringed　with　willow　and　marestail　and　pink　river…herb。　　The　house　itself　had　a　nice　little　garden；　gay　with　geraniums　and　gladiolus；　and　bounded　by　a　hedge　of　sunflowers　which　would　have　gladdened　the　heart　of　an　aesthete。　　All　was　pure；　fresh；　cleanly；　and　perfectly　quiet。

From　the　windows　nothing　was　to　be　seen　except　the　village　green　with　its　flocks　of　geese　and　its　tall　sign　post；　the　river　describing　a　sort　of　horseshoe　curve　round　it；　and　spanned　by　two　picturesque　bridges。　　In　the　distance　was　a　small　church　and　a　little　cluster　of　houses；　the　〃village〃　being　completed　by　a　blacksmith's　forge　and　a　post　office。　　To　this　latter　place　they　had　to　pay　a　speedy　visit　for；　much　to　Raeburn's　amusement；　Erica　had　forgotten　to　bring　any　ink。

〃To　think　that　a　writer　in　the　'Daily　Review'　should　forget　such　a　necessary　of　life！〃　he　said；　smiling。　　〃One　would　think　you　were　your　little　'Cartesian…well'　cousin　instead　of　a　journalist！〃

However；　the　post　office　was　capable　of　supplying　almost　anything　likely　to　be　needed　in　the　depths　of　the　country；　you　could　purchase　there　bread；　cakes；　groceries；　hob…nailed　boots；　paper；　ink；　and　most　delectable　toffee！

The　relief　of　the　country　quiet　was　unlike　anything　which　Erica　had　known　before。　　There　was；　indeed；　at　first　a　good　deal　of　anxiety　about　her　father。　　His　acquiescence　in　idleness；　his　perfect　readiness　to　spend　whole　days　without　even　opening　a　book；　proved　the　seriousness　of　his　condition。　　For　the　first　week　he　was　more　completely　prostrated　than　she　had　ever　known　him　to　be。　　He　would　spend　whole　days　on　the　river；　too　tired　even　to　speak；　or　would　drag　himself　as　far　as　the　neighboring　wood　and　stretch　himself　at　full　length　under　the　trees　while　she　sat　by　sketching　or　writing。　　Bur　Brian　was　satisfied　with　his　improvement　when　he　came　down　on　one　of　his　periodical　visits；　and　set　Erica's　mind　at　rest　about　him。

〃You　father　has　such　a　wonderful　constitution；〃　he　said　as　they　paced　to　and　fro　in　the　little　garden。　　〃I　should　not　be　surprised　if；　in　a　couple　of　months；　he　is　as　strong　as　ever；　though　most　men　would　probably　feel　such　an　overstrain　to　the　end　of　their　days。〃

After　that；　the　time　at　Milford　was　pure　happiness。　　Erica　learned　to　love　every　inch　of　that　lovely　neighborhood；　from　the　hill　of　Rocksbury　with　its　fir…clad　heights；　to　Trencharn　Lake　nestled　down　among　the　surrounding　heath　hills。　　In　after　years　she　liked　to　recall　all　those　peaceful　days；　days　when　time　had　ceased　to　exist　at　any　rate；　as　an　element　of　friction　in　life。　　There　was　no　hurrying　here；　and　the　recollection　of　it　afterward　was　a　perpetual　happiness。　　The　quiet　river　where　they　had　one　day　seen　an　otter；　a　marked　event　in　their　uneventful　days；　the　farm　with　its　red　gables　and　its　crowd　of　gobbling　turkeys；　the　sweet…smelling　fir　groves　with　their　sandy　paths；　and　their　own　particular　wood　where　beeches；　oaks；　and　silvery　birch　trees　were　intermingled；　with　here　and　there　a　tall　pine　sometimes　stately　and　erect；　sometimes　blown　aslant　by　the　wind。

Here　the　winding　paths　were　bordered　with　golden　moss；　and　sheltered　by　a　tangled　growth　of　bracken　and　bramble　with　now　and　then　a　little　clump　of　heather　or　a　patch　of　blue　harebells。　　Every　nook　of　that　place　grew　familiar　to　them　and　had　its　special　associations。　　There　was　the　shady　part　under　the　beeches　where　they　spent　the　hot　days；　and　this　was　always　associated　with　fragments　of　〃Macbeth〃　and　〃Julius　Caesar。〃　　There　was　the　cozy　nook　on　the　fir　hill　where　in　cool　September　they　had　read　volume　after　volume　of　Walter　Scott；　Raeburn　not　being　allowed　to　have　anything　but　light　literature；　and　caring　too　little　for　〃society〃　novels　to　listen　to　them　even　now。　　There　was　the　prettiest　part　of　all　down　below；　the　bit　of　sandy　cliff　riddled　with　nest　holes　by　the　sand　martins；　here　they　discovered　a　little　spring；　the　natural　basin　scooped　out　in　the　rock；　festooned　with　ivy　and　thickly　coated　with　the　pretty　green　liverwort。　　Never　surely　was　water　so　cold　and　clear　as　that　which　flowed　into　the　basin　with　its　ground　of　white　sand；　and　overflowed　into　a　little　trickling　stream；　while　in　the　distance　was　heard　the　roar　of　the　river　as　it　fell　into　a　small　waterfall。　　There　was　the　ford　from　which　the　place　was　named　and　which　Erica　associated　with　a　long　happy　day　when　Brian　had　come　down　to　see　her　father。　　She　remembered　how　they　had　watched　the　carts　and　horses　splashing　though　the　clear　water；　going　in　muddy　on　one　side　and　coming　out　clean　on　the　other。　　She　had　just　listened　in　silence　to　the　talk　between　Brian　and　her　father　which　happened　to　turn　on　Donovan　Farrant。

They　discussed　the　effect　of　early　education　and　surroundings　upon　the　generality　of　men；　and　Raeburn；　while　prophesying　great　things　for　Donovan's　future　and　hoping　that　he　might　live　to　see　his　first　Budget；　rather　surprised　them　both　by　what　he　said　about　his　tolerable　well…known　early　life。　　He　was　a　man　who　found　it　very　difficult　to　make　allowances　for　temptations　he　had　never　felt；　he　was　convinced　that　under　Donovan's　circumstances　he　should　have　acted　very　differently；　and　he　made　the　common　mistake　of　judging　others　by　himself。　　His　ruggedly　honest　nature　and　stern　sense　of　justice　could　not　get　over　those　past　failings。　　However；　this　opinion　about　the　past　did　not　interfere　with　his　present　liking　of　the　man。　　He　liked　him　much；　and　when；　toward　the　end　of　their　six　weeks'　stay　at　Milford；　Donovan　invited　them　to　Oakdene；　he　was　really　pleased　to　accept　the　invitation。　　He　hoped　to　be　well　enough　to　speak　at　an　important　political　meeting　at　Ashborough　about　the　middle　of　October；　and　as　Ashborough　was　not　far　from　Oakdene；　Donovan　wrote　to　propose　a　visit　there　en　route。

At　length　the　last　evening　came。　　Raeburn　and　Erica　climbed　Rocksbury　for　the　last　time；　and　in　the　cool　of　the　evening　walked　slowly　home。

〃I　have　always　dreaded　old　age；〃　he　said。　　〃But　I　shall　dread　it　no　more。　　This　has　been　a　foretaste　of　the　autumn　of　life；　and　it　has　been　very　peaceful。　　I　don't　see　why　the　winter　should　not　be　the　same　if　I　have　you　with　me；　little　one。〃

〃You　shall　have　me　as　long　as　I　am　alive；〃　she　said；　giving　his　strong　hand　a　little　loving　squeeze。

〃Truth　to　tell；〃　said　Raeburn；　〃I　thought　a　few　weeks　ago　that　it　would　be　a　case　of　'Here　lies　Luke　Raeburn；　who　died　of　litigation！'　　But；　after　all；　to　be　able　to　work　to　the　last　is　the　happiest　lot。　　Tis　an　enviable　thing　to　die　in　harness。〃

They　were　walking　up　a　hill；　a　sort　of　ravine　with　steep　high　banks　on　either　side；　and　stately　pines　stretching　their　blue…green　foliage　up　against　the　evening　sky。　　A　red　glow　of　sunset　made　the　dark　stems　look　like　fiery　pillars；　and　presently　as　they　reached　the　brow　of　the　hill　the　great　crimson　globe　was　revealed　to　them。　　They　both　stood　in　perfect　silence　watching　till　it　sunk　below　the　horizon。

And　a　great　peace　filled　Erica's　heart　though　at　one　time　her　father's　wish　would　have　made　her　sad　and　apprehensive。　　In　former　times　she　had　set　her　whole　heart　on　his　learning　before　death　that　he　was　teaching　error。　　Now　she　had　learned　to　add　to　〃Thy　will　be　done；〃　the　clause　which　it　takes　some　of　us　a　life　time　to　say；　〃Not　my　will。〃


CHAPTER　XXXIX。　Ashborough

There's　a　brave　fellow！　There's　a　man　of　pluck！　A　man　who　is　not　afraid　to　say　his　say；　Though　a　whole　town's　against　him。　　Longfellow

A　man's　love　is　the　measure　of　his　fitness　for　good　or　bad　company　here　or　elsewhere。　　Oliver　Wendell　Holmes。

The　week　at　Oakdene　proved　in　every　way　a　success；　Raeburn　liked　his　host　heartily；　and　the　whole　atmosphere　of　the　house　was　a　revelation　to　him。　　The　last　morning　there　had　been　a　little　clouded　for　news　had　reached　them　of　a　terrible　colliery　accident　in　the　north　of　England。　　The　calamity　had　a　special　gloom　about　it　for　it　might　very　easily　have　been　prevented；　the　owners　having　long　known　that　the　mine　was　unsafe。

〃I　must　say　it　is　a　little　hard　to　see　how　such　a　horrible　sin　as　carelessness　of　the　lives　of　human　beings　can　ever　bring　about　the　greater　good　which　we　believe　evil　to　do；〃　said　Erica；　as　she　took　her　last　walk　in　the　wood　with　Donovan。

〃'Tis　hard　to　see　at　the　time；〃　he　replied。　　〃But　I　am　convinced　that　it　is　so。　　The　sin　is　never　good；　never　right；　but　when　men　will