"We meet occasionally, Miss Minturn," Dr. Stanley observed in a genial tone, as he cordially extended his hand to her. "I hope everything is progressing satisfactorily in the junior class."

"As far as I know, all is well," she returned, her scarlet lips parting in a smile that just showed the tips of her white teeth, though she flushed slightly under her companion's glance. "I can speak with authority for only one, however. I am compelled to work pretty diligently; but I rather enjoy that."

"I am sure you do. I recall a fluent reading from Horace, which I inadvertently interrupted on the Ivernia, last fall, and which must have required earnest application; and I also remember that that same student could not be tempted from her task until the lesson was done," the gentleman rejoined, jocosely. Then turning to Dorothy, he inquired:

"And how does my small niece find herself this afternoon?"

"Miss Minturn, I have enjoyed my walk more than I can tell you," said Mrs. Seabrook, as she removed her hat and wrap, but wondering at the unaccustomed crimson in the girl's cheeks. "And now," she added, "if you have time I would like to show you a portfolio of engravings which Prof. Seabrook received last week from an old classmate who is now abroad."

Katherine could never resist fine pictures, and followed her hostess into an adjoining room, where the portfolio was placed upon a table, and she was invited to inspect its contents at her leisure, Mrs. Seabrook excusing herself to prepare some nourishment for Dorothy.

Katherine found many of the engravings to be copies of paintings by some of the great masters, and which she had seen, in various galleries, the previous summer. They were very finely executed, and she became so absorbed in them that she was unconscious of the presence of anyone until Dr. Stanley's smooth, cultured tones fell upon her startled ears.

"That is a beautiful thing, Miss Minturn," he observed, bending nearer to look more closely at a copy of a section of the 'Creation' as painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican at Rome. "The foreshortening and perspective there is wonderful! Michael Angelo was the master of them all! Of course, you have seen many of the wonders of that great storehouse of art?"

"Yes; mamma and I spent a great deal of time in the Vatican. What a treasure vault it is!" Katherine replied, and then, as she turned other pictures to view, they fell to talking of scenes familiar to them both.

At length she came upon a reproduction of the healing of the lame man by Peter, at the "Gate Beautiful" of the Temple in Jerusalem.

It was full of strength and life, as well as of touches of beauty and pathos, and the girl's face lighted with keen appreciation as she saw it.

"That is a queer story," Dr. Stanley observed, and eagerly seizing the opportunity for which he had been waiting.

"Queer?" repeated Katherine, inquiringly.

"Yes; it seems so to me. Do you believe that man—Peter, I believe, was his name—performed that cure instantaneously, as related?"

"No; but God did, working through him," said Katherine.

"You firmly believe that such an incident really occurred?"

"I certainly do."

"And you just as firmly believe that such healing can be done now?"

The girl lifted a quick, searching look to her companion, half expecting to see the skeptical curl, which she so well remembered, wreathing his mobile lips.

But, instead, she found herself looking into a pair of grave, earnest blue eyes, and there was no sign of levity or derision in the fine face.

"Yes, it has been done many times during the last thirty years," she quietly replied.

"Do you speak from actual knowledge or only from hearsay?"

"Both. I know of two cases, and my mother could tell you of several others."

"Do you believe that Dorothy could be healed? made straight and well?"

"Oh, Dr. Stanley!" Katherine breathed, with luminous eyes. "Yes, indeed! yes. Will they try the Science for her? Oh! how I have yearned to have that dear child made whole!"

Her face was so radiant with hope, yet so softly tender and so beautiful, the physician was deeply moved.

"I cannot say as to that," he replied. "But will you tell me, Miss
Minturn, what, in your method, heals the sick?"

"God—the power that created the universe and holds it in His grasp, who 'spake and it was done.'"

"Ah! but that is so vague, so intangible, I cannot comprehend your meaning," said the man, with an impatient shrug of his broad shoulders. "I do not doubt the existence of God," he continued, "nor His omnipotence, for I believe that the Creator must have all power over His own creation. But how—how can suffering humanity avail itself of that power? If I could grasp that—if I were sure it could be done by a really scientific process, I would never again prescribe a drug or touch a surgical instrument."

He spoke with evident emotion, almost passionately, for they could hear Dorothy sobbing, from the returning pain, in the other room, and, with all his learning and experience, the man had a heart- sickening sense of discouragement in view of his own and others' helplessness to cope with that demon of torture which was surely destroying his niece and, indirectly, wearing to a shadow his only sister.

"You say you believe in God—that you do not doubt His power; but is that statement of your attitude quite true, Dr. Stanley?" Katherine gently inquired. "If you really believed it, if all who claim that they have faith in an omnipotent God really believed it, would you or they ever assume that drugs or surgical instruments were needed to assist God to do His work?"

"Jove! that is an argument that has never occurred to me before!" Phillip Stanley exclaimed. "But," he went on, doubtfully, "the curse came, and man was driven to do something to mitigate it; and it has been conceded, all down the ages, that these same doctors and material remedies are agencies that were required and provided by an all-wise Providence for that purpose."

"Yes, man, in his arrogance, has claimed that, and so has practically denied the omnipotence of God. But this same God has said, over and over, 'Whatsoever ye ask ye shall receive,' and 'Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest.' But he has never said, 'Ask to be healed of disease and I will send you doctors, to experiment with drugs, roots and herbs, and mechanical appliances;' or, 'if ye are worn out with care and heavy-laden with suffering they shall build you costly sanitariums, wherein to rest and be treated.' But only the rich or a favored few may avail themselves of these. If these remedies or retreats were infallible and could reach all mankind, there might be some plausibility in such arguments; but such is not the case, as you must know. Where, in God's Word, which is conceded to be the guide for humanity, do you find authority for them?" Katherine inquired, in conclusion.

"You have me there, Miss Minturn," rejoined her companion, with a quizzical smile; "honesty compels me to confess that I have not been much of a Bible student, at least of late years. But allow me to say that your arguments against doctors, drugs and hospitals are very quaint, not to say convincing," he added, with an amused laugh.

"Well, let me assure you that you cannot find an instance, from Genesis to Revelation, where God commands man to call upon physicians, or to use material remedies for sickness any more than for sin," Katherine continued, earnestly. "But we do find many injunctions to depend upon Him alone in such extremity. In Deuteronomy we read, 'And the Lord will take away from thee all sickness.' Again, we are told what the penalty is for not calling upon Him—'Asa died because he sought the physicians and not unto God.' David tells us, 'It is God who healeth all our diseases,' and there are many more passages I could quote to prove the point."

"But why, if that is the only right way, has not God made it so plain that no one could go astray?" questioned Dr. Stanley.

"He has made it plain, and man would not go astray if he were obedient; but, in his arrogance and egotism, he has ignored God and 'sought out many inventions' [Footnote: Eccles., 7.29.] to rob Him of His prerogative," said Katherine.

"Well, to go back still farther, why has God permitted such evils and untold misery to exist in the world?" thoughtfully inquired the gentleman.

"He has not 'permitted' it," the girl positively declared.

"Isn't that rather a bold assertion, if God is omnipotent?"
Phillip Stanley demanded, in surprise.

"No; for He asserts that He looks on evil with 'no degree of allowance.' For instance, you are supposed to be supreme in the sick room, your word law; but if your patient ignores your directions and remedies and substitutes others in place of them, you are not 'permitting' such willful disobedience. But the patient suffers for it none the less, and you are in no way responsible for his condition. So mortals, in their presumption and perverseness, have become idolaters, have set up false gods or devices to rob God of His power. Take another illustration: Truth and honesty are supreme in their realm, but there are people who prefer to lie when truth would serve them better, and who would rather steal than get an honest living. But truth and honesty do not permit—are not responsible for such perversion. Until the liar and the thief turn to truth and honesty, to reclaim them, they will suffer from the results of their sins; they cannot substitute anything else."

"I see your point, Miss Minturn, and you have given me something to think of. You argue, too, like a veritable doctor of divinity," said Dr. Stanley, with a smile.

"Oh! no, I do not," retorted Katherine, with a roguish gleam in her brown eyes; "for, let your doctor of divinity get sick and he will argue for material remedies every time."

"That is true, and my intellect, my education and experience prompt me to reason from the same standpoint," was the grave response. "My professional pride also cries out 'Absurd! Impossible! Impractical!' But I dearly love that little girl in there," and the man's voice grew gentle as a woman's and trembled in spite of his manhood, as he glanced towards the adjoining room. "I love my sister, whose life is a mental and physical martyrdom, and I would sacrifice all I have—yea, even professional authority and pride—to bring health and happiness to them. There is one thing left to try for Dorothy, to relieve that pain—only one; but my heart shrinks, revolts from it. That is why I have sought this conversation with you, Miss Minturn, hoping to get a little insight regarding your methods; and, while I do not grasp the so- called 'science' of it at all, I am impressed that you Scientists have something that we physicians have not. But I marvel at your profound thought upon such a subject at your age."

"You would not marvel at my ability to elucidate a difficult problem in trigonometry?" said Katherine, smiling.

"No, for that would be a natural outgrowth of your education."

"Yes, and the same argument holds good regarding what we have been talking of," was the quick response. "I have been taught it from my youth up, and although I know but very little of Christian Science, for it is infinite, yet what I have learned I know just as clearly as I know certain statements in the 'History of the United States'; yes, far more clearly," she interposed, with a little laugh, "for I am obliged to take the historian's account for granted, in part, while I can demonstrate, prove Christian Science for myself."

Dr. Stanley's shapely brows were arched ever so slightly at this assertion.

"Have you ever done any healing, Miss Minturn?" he inquired. "Have you ever cured anyone of a severe illness?"

Katharine flushed under his glance and question.

"A person cannot be said to know very much about mathematics unless he is able to demonstrate mathematical problems," she observed, after a moment of hesitation.

"I see; you mean that anyone who acquires the principles of
Christian Science can demonstrate it by healing the sick?"

"Yes. It is the Christ-science, or the Science of Christianity, as demonstrated and taught by Jesus, who said, 'The works that I do shall ye do also if ye believe in Me.' So anyone who conscientiously investigates it, from an honest desire to know the Truth, will grow into the practice of it."

"Miss Minturn, do you believe that you could help Dorothy?" earnestly inquired Phillip Stanley.

"I know that she could be helped under right conditions; and I wish—I feel sure that my mother's understanding is sufficient to meet the case," she thoughtfully returned.

"'Under right conditions,' what do you mean by that?"

"Dorothy would have to be willing to be treated, and the consent of Prof. and Mrs. Seabrook would also be necessary."

"Then nothing could be done for her by your method except under those conditions?" and Dr. Stanley's tone conveyed a sense of disappointment.

"No; it would not be right—it would be interfering where one would have no authority to intrude."

"But it would be doing good; that is always justifiable, is it not? even if the child could be given but one night's peaceful rest to prove its efficacy."

"Some physicians believe in hypnotism; do you?" Katherine inquired, with apparent irrelevancy.

"Well, under certain circumstances, it might be employed to advantage, but, as a rule, I am opposed to it."

"We utterly repudiate it as a very dangerous and demoralizing practice; but, Dr. Stanley, would you think it right, under any circumstances, for a person to hypnotize you without your consent?"

"Indeed I would not; it would be a dastardly act," emphatically declared the physician.

"On the same principle, Christian Scientists feel that they have no right to treat, or try to influence anyone mentally, even to do good, without permission," Katherine explained, as she arose, thinking, perhaps, enough had been said on the subject.

"Just one moment, please, Miss Minturn," said the gentleman, detaining her. "There is one thing more I would like to speak of. Will you kindly look me directly in the eyes?" Somewhat surprised, Katherine turned her glance upon his and looked searchingly into those fine eyes so deeply blue, but flushing as she did so.

"Can you detect any difference in them?" he questioned.

"No, I cannot," she said, and knowing now why he had asked it, for she remembered what Miss Reynolds had told her.

"Well, there is," he affirmed, "for I am blind in my left eye, although scarcely anyone would observe it; at least I can only discern light from darkness. It was caused by an accident when I was a child. Do you believe, Miss Minturn, that normal sight could be restored to that eye?"

"I know that it could," Katherine began.

"Yes, of course, you know that God has power to restore it," her companion interposed; "but do you believe any practitioner would take my case and encourage me to hope for such a result?"

"Assuredly," said the girl, with unwavering confidence.

"Truly, your faith is unbounded," Phillip Stanley observed, with a smile in which there was a glimmer of skepticism. "I wish it could find an echo in my own heart, for I would give a great deal for so priceless a boon. But where do your practitioners go to learn their method?"

"To our text-book, 'Science and Health.' It—"

"That little leather-covered book I used to see you reading on shipboard?"

"Yes; it contains the whole of Christian Science, and, Dr.
Stanley"—with a significant nod—"he who will may read."

"I understand"—with a responsive laugh—"one has to put forth individual effort in order to acquire valuable knowledge. Pray pardon me for detaining you so long, and possibly I may ask to talk with you further after I have consulted my sister and her husband. Really, Miss Minturn"—he interposed in a deprecatory tone and flushing with a sense of the incongruity of his position- -"I am afraid I am rather faithless, but something impels me to suggest that a trial be given the Science treatment before the adoption of severe measures. Good-afternoon, and thank you for your courtesy and patience."

He shook hands cordially with her, then bowed himself away.