The next morning about eight o'clock, Nurse came to Mrs. Mandeville's room, an expression of amazement, almost of consternation, on her face.

"What is it, Nurse? Is Master Carol worse?" Mrs. Mandeville asked in alarm.

"No, ma'am; I cannot say he is worse. He says he is well, and wants to get up for breakfast. He slept all through the night, just as you left him, and never wakened till half-past seven this morning. He is certainly not feverish or delirious, but he talks so strangely. He says error has all gone, and he is free. I had quite a difficulty to prevent him from getting out of bed to come to you. I have sent a messenger for Dr. Burton."

"That is right, Nurse. Go back to him. I will come at once." Mrs. Mandeville was not long slipping into a morning wrap, and following Nurse to Carol's room.

As soon as she reached the bedside, he sprang up, and held her in a close embrace, both arms round her neck. "Auntie, Auntie, isn't it beautiful? I am free! Error has quite gone. I know Cousin Alicia has had the telegrams now. You can rub your hand down my back. It does not hurt me now, nor the bruises."

"Carol, dear, I cannot understand it. It seems so wonderful. I am afraid you ought not to be sitting up like this."

"Oh, Auntie, there is nothing to be afraid about. Error cast out cannot come back again. I am so hungry. I do want to get up to breakfast."

"Darling, you must lie still until Dr. Burton has seen you. I could not consent for you to get up yet. It does indeed seem beautiful for you to be so much better, I cannot realize it, and I cannot understand, Carol, why Miss Desmond's prayers for you should be so quickly answered, when I am sure I love you just as dearly. I prayed for you, and Uncle Raymond prayed, yet--yet I cannot feel that our prayers helped you."

She had tenderly laid him back upon the pillow. She could not get rid of the fear that it was not good for him to be using his back.

He was silent a few minutes, the old thoughtful expression on his face which she knew so well. Then he said:

"Auntie, the sun was shining this morning long before Nurse drew aside the curtains, and let the light into my room. Suppose while the curtain was drawn I had kept saying, 'Please, dear sun, do shine into my room, and send the darkness away.' It would have had no effect. It would have been foolish, wouldn't it? Well, Auntie, the light of Truth, like the sunlight is everywhere, but we can shut it out of our consciousness by a curtain of false beliefs. Cousin Alicia has not asked God to make me better. She has just known that God's child is always perfect. As Nurse drew aside the curtain to let in the sunlight, she has drawn aside the curtain of false beliefs that were around me, and then Truth came and healed me. Jesus said 'the Truth shall make you free.' It is just as true, Auntie, as if he had said, 'When light appears, darkness disappears.' Wherever Truth appears, error shall flee away, because it is not from God. It is the opposite of God's law. I love that beautiful verse of the hymn more than I have ever loved it, because I can say again:

'The healing of the seamless dress

Is by our beds of pain.'

Christ is Truth, and Truth is the Christ. I was asleep when he came to me. But just as Jesus spoke to the angry waves the Christ has commanded error, 'Peace, be still.' Oh, Auntie! cannot you believe I am quite well? 'I am the Father's perfect child. I have the gift from God, dominion over all.'"

She was longing to realize that it was as the boy said, and she had nothing to fear. Yet it was difficult.

Dr. Burton was out when the messenger from the Manor went for him. He had not returned from a night case to which he had been summoned. Mrs. Burton promised that he would go immediately on his return. Shortly after ten o'clock Dr. Burton arrived, expecting to find from the urgent message that had reached him a change for the worse in his patient. He was considerably taken aback as he entered the room to hear a ripple of laughter, and the boy with a radiant face, sitting upright in bed, who, the day before, had not been able to raise his head from the pillow.

"What does this mean?" Dr. Burton asked in a tone of voice in which surprise became almost consternation.

"I cannot tell you anything, Doctor, except that Carol slept all night and woke this morning feeling quite well and hungry. He has had a fairly substantial breakfast," Mrs. Mandeville said. The doctor then thoroughly examined him, felt his pulse, took his temperature, and when he looked on the places where the terrible bruises had been, and saw only a faint discoloration, he said:

"It is a miracle!"

"No, Doctor," said Carol, quietly, "it is Christian Science."

"Then what is Christian Science?" the doctor asked.

But the boy was silent. He could talk to his aunt on the subject, but not to the doctor.

At that moment a maid brought a telegram to Mrs. Mandeville. It was from Miss Desmond. She read it, and passed it on to Dr. Burton. It was brief: "Letters and telegrams reached me 9.30 last evening. Regret unavoidable delay. Kindly wire if all is well. Letter to Carol follows." The doctor and Mrs. Mandeville simply looked at each other in speechless wonderment, one thought engrossing them. It was shortly after 9.30 the night before that Carol fell into the sleep from which he had awakened well.

"It is at last a message from Cousin Alicia," Mrs. Mandeville then said to Carol. "Our letters and telegrams did not reach her till 9.30 last evening."

"Yes, Auntie, I knew it, and I know she has worked for me all night."

Both Mrs. Mandeville and the doctor would have liked to understand what the boy meant by that one word "worked." But neither questioned him then.

"I can get up now, Doctor, cannot I?" Carol asked.

"Yes, there is no reason that I can see for keeping you in bed. All the same," turning to Mrs. Mandeville, "I should say he may as well be kept fairly quiet for a day or two--not commence running races, or any other juvenile sports."

"You can trust me, Doctor," Mrs. Mandeville remarked, smiling.

"It seems to me you should consult the lady who has worked for him all night with such marvellous success. I can scarcely consider him my patient now."

"Doctor, I thank you very much for all you tried to do for me. You were very kind and gentle to me."

"Tut-tut, boy! Why, that's of course."

All the same the doctor was pleased with the boy's simple recognition of his services. He would indeed have done more, had he been able. He walked home slowly and thoughtfully, pondering that question, which he had asked the boy, thinking of a lecture which he had given a few weeks before in a crowded parish room; how he himself had answered the question--What is Christian Science?--to the convulsive amusement of his audience. He had dipped into a book--the text-book of Christian Science--made copious extracts and so satisfied himself that he understood the subject sufficiently to be able to warn people against the teachings of Christian Science.

Mrs. Burton was watching for his return. She was anxious for news of the boy, fearing the early message which had been sent for the doctor must mean that he was worse. By her side, in the garden, seated in a little wheel-chair, was her only child, a girl of ten, who after a fall downstairs when she was five years old, causing an injury to her spine, had lost the use of her legs. There seemed no hope of her ever being able to walk again, since all the doctors who had seen her had not been able to do anything for her.

"How is the boy?" asked Mrs. Burton, as the doctor entered the garden in front of the house.

"He is well," was the brief reply.

"You don't mean?--" Mrs. Burton began in an alarmed tone.

"I mean exactly what I say--the boy is well."

"But, dear, how can that be, when he was so ill yesterday?"

"I cannot tell you. He says it is Christian Science. I say it is a miracle."

"Father, he won't lose the use of his legs, will he?" the little girl asked.

"No, Eloise, I think there will be no such effects from the fall, as unhappily there were in your case."

"I am glad, Father, he is such a nice, kind boy!"

The child had grieved, fearing that he might be crippled like herself.

"Christian Science must be different from what you described at the lecture, dear. Do you think I might go and see Carol? I should like to hear from him what it is that has made him well so quickly. I owe Mrs. Mandeville a call."

"Go and pay it, then. Perhaps the boy will talk to you. He did not seem to care to answer my questions."

The doctor passed into the house with the thought that he would borrow that book again, and see if he could get a better understanding of the subject himself.