The school opened with a full house again; indeed, it was more than full, for Prof.  Seabrook was obliged to secure rooms for half a dozen new pupils with some families outside, and began to seriously consider the advisability of extending the wings of the building before the beginning of another year.

We cannot follow the experiences of our friends during the ensuing ten months, in detail; and, in fact, but little out of the ordinary occurred to mark their passing.

It will be of interest, perhaps, to know that Prof.  Seabrook, true to his word, made a careful perusal of “Science and Health,” but he did not find it easy to get out of old ruts, and there was many a hard-fought battle with preconceived opinions and long-treasured creeds and doctrines.  Many a time he threw down his book with a revival of his old antagonism, but a look at Dorrie—­whose general health had become almost perfect, and who was now manifesting the keenest interest in the studies which she had insisted upon taking up—­was like a “peace, be still” to the tempest and oil upon the turbulent waters, and he resumed his investigations with such determination to know the Truth, that, finally, he was enabled to say with one of old, “I begin to see as through a glass darkly.”

Miss Reynolds became a greater power than ever in the school.  She had always been attractive, and the students loved her, but now there was an added charm and sweetness that irresistibly drew everyone to her.  She made no secret of the change in her views, although she never forced them upon anyone.  She attended the service on Grove Street regularly, with Katherine, and Jennie also was numbered with the same congregation.

Dr. Stanley found his position unique and by no means an enviable one.  Before going abroad he had built up a fine practice, and most of his patients came back to him on his return, while new ones had flocked to him.  Now, however, with his changed thought, he found it exceedingly difficult to decide just what course to pursue, when those who, hitherto, had placed unbounded confidence in him now called upon him to minister again to their necessities.

But he had chosen his path.  Having become convinced that God and God alone “forgiveth all iniquities and healeth all diseases,” he had declared that he would never again diagnose a case in accord with the laws of materia medica, write another medical prescription, or deal out ineffectual drugs.  Neither did he, as yet, feel that he was prepared to announce himself a Christian Science practitioner.  So, when called to his former patients, he had felt it his duty to state his position and, as an “entering wedge,” suggest that they give the Science a trial for their infirmities.  Some had openly scoffed at him; others had acted upon his advice, and were greatly benefited; while, in a few instances, he had offered to try what he himself could do, and, to his great joy, had made his demonstration.  But the majority dropped him and went over to rival practitioners.