“Dr. Ballard, aren’t you a Christian?” she asked suddenly.

He glanced up.  “I hope so.”

“Then you’ll forgive me if I won’t take medicine.  I put out my tongue, and I sucked the little glass thing because I didn’t want to trouble you; but I have too much faith in God to take medicine.”  The child looked at the doctor appealingly.

He began to see light, and in his surprise, for a moment he did not reply.

“Jesus Christ would have used drugs if they had been right,” she added.

“But He isn’t here now,” returned the astonished young man.

“Why, Dr. Ballard,” in gentle reproach, “Christ is the Truth of God.  Isn’t He here now, healing us and helping us just the same as ever?  Didn’t He say He would be?  You will see how much better I shall be to-night.”

Dr. Ballard met the heavy eyes with his own kind, clear ones.  “I see you have been taught in new ways, Jewel,” he said seriously, “but you are only a little girl, and while you are in your grandfather’s house you ought to do as he wishes.  He wishes you to let me prescribe for you.  No one who is ill can help making trouble.  You have no right not to try to get well in the way Mr. Evringham and Mrs. Forbes wish you to.”

Jewel felt herself in a desperate position.  The corners of her lips twitched down.  Dr. Ballard thought he saw his advantage, and leaned his fine head toward her.  She impulsively threw her arms around his neck.

“You don’t want to hurt my feelings, Jewel,” he said.  She was crying softly.

“No—­it would make me—­very—­sorry, but it would be—­worse—­to hurt—­God’s.  Please don’t make me, please, please don’t make me, Dr. Ballard!”

She was increasingly excited, and he feared the effect.

“Very well then, Jewel,” he returned.  “I don’t want to do you more harm than good.”

“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed fervently, through her tears.

“But Mrs. Forbes must think you have the medicine.  You haven’t told her that you are—­ahem—­a Christian Scientist.  I suppose that is what you call yourself.”

“Yes, sir.  A Christian Scientist.  Oh, you’re the kindest man,” pursued the relieved child.  “I realized in my prayer that you didn’t know it was wrong to believe in material medica, for you reflect love all the time.”

While she was talking and wiping her eyes the doctor took the pitcher and one of the glasses to the window, and stood with his back to her.

“Now then,” he said, returning, “we’ll put this half glass of water on the table.  I put the spoon across it so, and when Mrs. Forbes is next in the room you take a couple of spoonfuls and that will satisfy her.  You may tell her that I wanted you only to take it about four times during the day.  If you are better when I come back this evening, I will not insist upon your taking any pellets on your tongue.  Here is the other glass for you to drink from.”