“Perhaps you may be surprised to learn that I have been reading up on this subject during the last few months; but, as I have also been practicing medicine, at the same time, the mental conflict has been something indescribable.  I told myself, in my presumption and egotism, that if there was healing power in Christian Science I would look into it and utilize it in connection with my own methods.  The result has been a state of perpetual fizz—­I know no better word to describe it; and now, after our recent experience, I find myself willing to sit humbly at the feet of higher authority and learn of a better and more efficacious healing art than I know of at present.  For, I tell you in plain terms, Dorothy was dying—­she was past all human aid when that blessed woman came, like an angel of peace, to us and in one night brought back our darling from the border of the unseen world.  She, with her understanding of Christian Science, saved her.  There can be no doubt on that point, and the child is better than I have ever seen her since her accident.  There has been no return of pain, and you can imagine what that means to us all.  She sleeps well, and has a healthy, normal appetite.  But Mrs. Minturn is very conscientious—­ says she cannot work in a divided household, and must have your approval, if she is to go on with the good work.  Now, Will, be a man; put your prejudices away on some upper shelf—­or, better still, cast them to the winds; pocket your ecclesiastical and intellectual pride, and give Dorrie a chance.  I am convinced ‘there is more in this philosophy than we have ever dreamed of,’ and I am going to know more about it.  Cable just two words—­’go on’—­if you are willing, and, at the rate she is going on now, I’ll wager a hat against a cane that you won’t know your own daughter when you arrive.  Bring the cane, please!  In the same spirit of good fellowship as ever.  “Affectionately yours, “Phil.”

There was a season of anxious, yet blessed, waiting after these letters were dispatched.  Blessed for Dorothy, who was gaining every hour, and happy as the day was long; anxious for Mrs. Seabrook, who could not quite divest herself of the fear of her husband’s disapproval, even though Mrs. Minturn was constantly admonishing, “Let not your heart be troubled,” and working to demonstrate that there could be no opposition to Truth and that the work, so well begun, could not be hindered by bigotry, pride or self-will.

At last, one morning there came a cable message—­just two words, as Phillip Stanley had requested, but not what he had asked for.

“‘Sail to-day,’” Mrs. Seabrook read aloud from the yellow slip, and lost color as she looked anxiously into her brother’s eyes and questioned: 

“What shall we do?”

“We will ask Mrs. Minturn,” he gravely replied.

So the message was taken to her, and after a thoughtful silence she turned with her serene smile to the waiting mother.