“What is it, Emelie?  Do not fear to speak your mind freely,” said her brother, encouragingly.

“Phillip, what do you think of the Christian Scientists?  Would it be too ridiculous to try their method for a while?” she faltered, and flushing crimson.

Dr. Stanley smiled.

“Has Dorothy been talking to you also about the miracles of nineteen hundred years ago?” he inquired, evasively.

“No; what do you mean?”

He related his recent conversation with his niece on the subject, and told of his promise to read the Scripture references she had given him.

“I kept my word,” he said, in conclusion, “and became so interested that I read the account of every miracle that Christ and His apostles performed.”

“Oh!  Dorrie never tires of reading or of asking questions about them,” returned Mrs. Seabrook; “but that has had nothing to do with my thought.  Something very queer has occurred during the last twenty-four hours.  You remember I spoke to you yesterday regarding Miss Reynolds’ illness?”

“Yes; you thought her condition rather serious, I believe.”

“Phillip, she really was very ill; I was thoroughly alarmed about her.  Always, before this, when she has had these attacks, she has been very willing to have a physician, but this time she flatly refused to let me call anyone.  Last night she was worse than I ever saw, her, and Miss Minturn took care of her.”

“Ah!” ejaculated Dr. Stanley, in a peculiar tone.

“You know, perhaps, that Miss Minturn is a Christian Scientist?” said his sister, inquiringly.

“Yes.”

“Well, I went to Miss Reynolds’ room late last night:  and, truly, I came away in fear and trembling.  I could not sleep well because of anxiety on her account.  This morning, however, Miss Minturn told me, in her quiet way, that she was ‘more comfortable.’  But you can imagine my astonishment when I went to see the woman, less than an hour ago, and found her up and dressed, having just finished a dinner of roast beef and vegetables—­in fact, our regular Saturday menu—­pie and all.”

“What! with all that fever?” exclaimed Dr. Stanley, aghast.

“Well, that was the queerest thing about it,” said Mrs. Seabrook, in a tone of perplexity; “there wasn’t a sign of fever about her and the swelling of her throat was all gone.  But for looking a trifle pale and hollow-eyed, she seemed nearly as well as ever.  She would not talk of herself, though; she just evaded our questions—­Miss Williams was with me—­but ran on about Dorothy and school matters in general, as lively as a cricket.  Now, putting this and that together, I am inclined to think that Miss Minturn had something to do with this wonderful change.  What do you think?” she concluded, turning to her brother with an eager look.

“I would not be at all surprised if she had,” Dr. Stanley gravely observed.

“You ‘would not be at all surprised’!  Then, Phillip, you do believe in Christian Science healing, after all!” exclaimed his sister, almost breathlessly.