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Updated: May 15, 2025
Did you hear him so long ago as that?" said Erica, thoughtfully. "Why, that must have been about the time of the great Stockborough trial." "It was; I remember reference being made to it, and how it stirred me up to think of Mr. Raeburn's gallant defense of freedom, and all that it was costing him.
Boyce showed himself not a whit less partial to Wharton than before; pressed him at least twice in Raeburn's hearing to make Mellor his head-quarters so long as it suited him, and behaved with an irritable malice with regard to some of the details of the wedding arrangements, which neither Mrs. Boyce's indignation nor Marcella's discomfort and annoyance could restrain.
Erica's guileless life seemed to rise before him the years of patient study, the beautiful filial love, the pathetic endeavor to restrain her child-like impatience of conventionalities lest scandalmongers should have even a shadow of excuse for slandering Luke Raeburn's daughter. The brutality of the insult struck him more than ever.
And I should like to see you, too, pay some attention to Aldous Raeburn's feelings and wishes." The admonition, in her father's mouth, would almost have made her laugh, if she could have laughed at anything. But, instead, she only repeated: "I must go, I have explained to mamma." "Evelyn! why do you permit it?" cried Mr. Boyce, turning aggressively to his wife.
Now however he felt a genuine shrinking. His look changed. Drawing his chair close up to her he began a series of penitent and self-contradictory excuses which Marcella soon broke in upon. "I don't know why you talk like that," she said, looking at him steadily. "Do you suppose I can go on all my life without hearing Mr. Raeburn's name mentioned? And don't apologise so much!
It was impossible to a man of Raeburn's nature not to turn aside; the political dispatches might be very important, but a deserted child in a burning house outweighed all other considerations. He threw open the door of the room whence the cry had come; the scaffolding outside had caught fire, and the flames were darting in at the window.
Then suppose that the Italian life of Raeburn was translated into Chinese, and that hundreds of years after, a heathen Chinee sat down to read it. His Oriental mind found it hard to understand Mr. Raeburn's thoroughly Western mind; he didn't see anything noble in Mr.
"What's that?" said Tom. "'Woe unto you when all men speak well of you," said Raeburn. A few minutes later, and the memorable trial of Raeburn v. Pogson had at length begun. Raeburn's friends had done their best to dissuade him from conducting his own case, but he always replied to them with one of his Scotch proverbs "A man's a lion in his ain cause."
Raeburn's speeches and doings were a good deal spoken of in Europe, as no doubt they are, and that a long time after his death one of his successors made some converts to secularism in Italy, and wrote in Italian all that he could remember of the life and words of his late teacher.
But I am more favourably struck with the girl than you are. And anyway, if it comes about, we must make the best of it." Miss Raeburn made no answer, but pretended to set her heel, her needles shaking. Lady Winterbourne was very sorry for her two old friends. "Wait a little," she said, laying her hand lightly on Miss Raeburn's.
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