The professor began to look rather weary, especially as he detected, here and there, a yawn behind an uplifted book.  All at once a peculiar gleam leaped into his eyes.

“Miss Minturn, what is your conception of God?” he inquired, turning abruptly to her.

The question came almost as an electric shock to Katherine and brought the quick color to her cheeks.

But she quelled this sense of disquiet instantly.

“God is Spirit,” she quietly replied.

“You mean that God is a spirit,” quickly corrected the professor.  “That definition has already been given several times; but I am trying to ascertain your own conception of Deity.  Why did you omit the article?”

Katherine lifted her earnest brown eyes to him, and in them he read an expression of mingled surprise and appeal, and he knew, as well as if she had voiced her thought, that she remembered he had forbidden her to express her peculiar views and wished to obey him to the letter.

But having put the question, he intended to have an answer of some kind, while he also experienced some curiosity as to whether she could give a comprehensive explanation of the term she had used.

“If you purposely omitted the article,” he resumed, as she was not quick to reply, “you must have had a reason for so doing; and,”—­ with a more courteous inflection—­“as there is supposed to be perfect freedom in the class, both in asking questions and expressing opinions, we would like you to explain your position.”

“The term ‘a spirit’ implies one of a kind, or, one of many, does it not?  But I understand God to be Infinite Spirit,” Katherine replied, with quiet self-possession.

“Well, what do you mean by ‘infinite spirit?’ Define ‘spirit,’ if you please.”

Katherine was amazed that he should thus pursue the subject.  She wondered if he could be utterly ignorant of the scientific definition of God.  She had supposed that he must have read something on the subject of Christian Science, or he would not have been so bitterly opposed to it, or, was he only trying to drive her into a corner?

However, she saw there was no escape but to follow his lead.  He had now given her license to speak, and she felt that she had no right to neglect her opportunity.

“Spirit is Mind, Intelligence, Life,” she said, using some of the terms she had employed in talking with Miss Reynolds the previous day, and which she thought would be readily understood by the class.

“Why, Prof.  Seabrook,” here interposed one of the seniors, her face aglow, her eyes alight, “I like that definition of God.  I never heard it before, but it appeals to me.”

The gentleman flushed slightly and acknowledged the observation with a grave bow, then inquired of Katherine:  “And are you satisfied with that concept of God, Miss Minturn?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t you think it rather a vague, visionary idea of the Almighty?” queried the gentleman, with a scornful dilation of his thin nostrils.  “Do you associate no thought of individuality or personality with Him?”