She was quite cheerful again as they walked home, and, indeed, her relief about her father's recovery was so great that she could not be unhappy for long about anything. They found Raeburn on the terrace with Ralph and Dolly at his heels, and the two-year-old baby, who went by the name of Pickle, on his shoulder. “I shall quite miss these bairnies,” he said as Donovan joined them. “Gee up, horsey! Gee up!” shouted Pickle from his lofty perch. “And oh, daddy, may we go into Gleyshot wiv you?” said Dolly, coaxingly. “Elica's father's going to give me a playcat.” “And me a whip,” interposed Ralph. “We may come with you, father, mayn't we?” “Oh! Yes,” said Donovan, smiling; “if Mr. Raeburn doesn't mind a crowded carriage.” Erica had gone into the house. “I don't know how to let you go,” said Gladys, “We have so much enjoyed having you. I think you had much better stay here will Monday and leave those two to take care of themselves at Ashborough.” “Oh, no,” said Erica, smiling, “that would never do! You don't realize what an event this is to me. It is the first time father has spoken since his illness. Besides, I have not yet quite learned to think him well enough to look after himself though, of course, he is getting quite strong again.” “Well, since you will go, come and choose a book for your journey,” said Gladys. “Oh, I should like that,” said Erica; “a nice homish sort of book, please, where the people lived in Arcadia and never heard of law courts!” Early in the afternoon they drove to Greyshot, stopping first of all at the toy shop. Raeburn, who was in excellent spirits, fully entered into the difficulties of Dolly's choice. At length a huge toy cat was produced. “Oh, I should like that one!” said Dolly, clapping her hands. “What a 'normous, gleat big cat it is!” “I shouldn't have known what it was meant for,” said Raeburn, scrutinizing the rather shapeless furry quadruped. “How is it that you can't make them more like cats than this?” “I don't know, sir, how it is,” said the shopwoman; “we get very good dogs and rabbits, and donkeys, but they don't seem to have attained to the making of cats.” This view of the matter so tickled Raeburn that he left Ralph and Dolly to see the “'normous gleat big cat” wrapped up, and went out of the shop laughing. But just outside, a haggard, wild-looking man came up to him and began to address him in excited tones. “You are the vile atheist, Luke Raeburn!” he cried, “Oh, I know you well enough. I tell you, you have lost my son's soul; do you hear, wretched infidel, you destroyed my son's soul! His guilt is upon you! And I will have vengeance! Vengeance!” “My friend,” said Raeburn quietly, “supposing your son had what you call a soul, do you think that I, a man, should be able to destroy it?” “You have made him what you are yourself,” cried the man, “an accursed infidel, an incarnate devil! But I tell you I will have vengeance, vengeance!”