There are few sadder things in the world than to see really good and well-intentioned men fighting for what they consider the religious cause with the devil's weapons.Mr.Fane-Smith would have been dismayed if any one could have shown him that all his life he had been struggling to suppress unbelief by what was infinitely worse than sincere unbelief denunciation often untrue, always unjust, invariably uncharitable.He would have been almost broken-hearted could he ever have known that his hard intolerance, his narrowness, his domineering injustice had not deterred one soul from adopting the views he abhorred, but had, on the contrary, done a great deal to drive into atheism those who were wavering.And this evening, even while lamenting that he had not been able to train up his niece exactly in the opinions he himself held, he was all the time trying her faith more severely than a whole regiment of atheists could have tried it.
The time passed heavily enough.When two people in the room are unhappy and uncomfortable, a sense of unrest generally falls upon the other occupants.Rose yawned, talked fitfully about the gayeties of the coming week, worked half a leaf on an antimacassar, and sang three or four silly little coquettish songs which somehow jarred on every one.
Mrs.Fane-Smith, feeling anxious and harassed, afraid alike of vexing her husband and offending her niece, talked kindly and laboriously.Erica turned the heel of her sock and responded as well as she could, her sensitiveness recoiling almost as much from the labored and therefore oppressive kindness, as from the irritating and narrow censure which Mr.Fane-Smith dealt out to the world.
Family prayers followed.It was the first time she had ever been present at such a household gathering, and the idea seemed to her a very beautiful one.But the function proved so formal and lifeless that it chilled her more than anything.Yet her relations were so very kind to her personally that she blamed herself for feeling disappointed, and struggled hard to pierce through the outer shell, which she knew only concealed their real goodness.
She knew, too, that she had herself to blame in part; her oversensitiveness, her quick temper, her want of deep insight had all had their share in ****** that evening such a blank failure.
Mrs.Fane-Smith went with her into her bedroom to see that she had all she wanted.Though the September evening was mild, a fire blazed in the grate, much to Erica's astonishment.Not on the most freezing of winter nights had she ever enjoyed such a luxury.Her aunt explained that the room looked north, and, besides, she thought a fire was cheerful and home-like.
"You are very kind," said Erica, warmly; "but you know I mustn't let you spoil me, or I shall not be fit to go back to the home life, and I want to go home much more fit for it."Something in the spontaneous warmth and confidence of this speech cheered Mrs.Fane-Smith.She wished above all things to win her niece's love and confidence, and she wisely reserved her proposal as to the matter of a home for another time.It was necessary, however, that she should give Erica a hint as to the topics likely to irritate Mr.Fane-Smith.
"I think, dear," she began, "it would be as well if, when my husband and Rose are present, you are careful not to speak of your father.You won't mind my saying this; but I know it displeases my husband, and I think you will understand that there are objections society, you know, and public opinion; we must consult it a little.
"
Mrs.Fane-Smith grew nervous and incoherent, threw her arms round her niece's neck, kissed her most affectionately, and wished her good night.
When she left the room, Erica's repressed indignation blazed up.
We fear it must be recorded that she fairly stamped with anger.