Katherine's Sheaves Part 36

"He has been trying to persuade me to--to go away with him ever since I came here," Sadie resumed, and evidently determined to keep nothing back; "and to-day he came upon me suddenly while you were away, and he wasn't very kind"--her lips quivered painfully over those last words; "but," she presently went on, "since I have been here many things have begun to seem different to me, and I had made up my mind to go back to school and do my very best next year; but if Ned is going to keep on bothering me like this, I shall be wretched."

"If he comes again I think we will have to let papa deal with him," said Katherine, gravely.

"Oh! I wouldn't have your father or mother know anything about it for the world," cried Sadie, in distress. "I begin to feel ashamed of the whole affair myself, and I would not marry him on the sly now for anything. But he claims that I am pledged to him, and says he will make trouble for me if I try to dodge him," and the girl nervously twisted a diamond ring; which she wore on the first finger of her left hand.

"There is nothing to prevent you from releasing yourself from any such rash pledge if you choose to do so," said Katharine. Then she asked: "Is that your engagement ring, dear?"

"Yes; but I haven't dared to wear it on the right finger, for I didn't want anyone to know," she admitted, with a blush of shame.

Katherine leaned forward and smiled fondly into her eyes.

"You understand, I am sure, that I do not wish to meddle in an affair of this kind; but if you will allow me. I would advise you to return that ring at once. Tell Mr. Willard that you revoke your promise to him, and that henceforth he is to leave you unmolested.

Think it over, Sadie, and I am sure your own good judgment will tell you this would be the wiser course. Now I will leave you to take your nap, for I think you need it," and, kissing her softly, she left the room.

The next morning a great burden rolled from her heart when she saw Sadie hand the postman a letter and a small package on which there was a special delivery stamp, and she earnestly hoped that this step in the right direction would forever end the disagreeable affair.

The following day the Seabrooks arrived, and our "brown-eyed la.s.sie" was very happy to have so many of her school friends around her; but it was impossible not to see how pale and worn Mrs. Seabrook looked, and that Dorrie had failed not a little.

After a few days, however, the child appeared to improve a trifle, and everybody else began to look refreshed and hopeful once more.

Dr. Stanley devoted the greater portion of his time to her, and she was never so happy as when he wheeled her to some point where she could have an un.o.bstructed view of the ocean and watch the foam-crested waves as they broke upon the rocks on the sh.o.r.e.

At times, when she was sleeping or being cared for by the ever- faithful Alice, the physician and his sister might have been found at the Minturn home, where many a pleasant hour was spent on its broad verandas, and where the subject of Christian Science was often the theme of conversation, and Mrs. Minturn was plied with numerous questions by Miss Reynolds and the doctor also.

Mrs. Seabrook rarely joined in these discussions, but Katherine observed that she was a very attentive listener.

Miss Reynolds had become an enthusiastic student; in fact, she was having cla.s.s instruction under Mrs. Minturn, and did not hesitate to avow her full acceptance of its teachings.

Dr. Stanley maintained, at first, a very conservative att.i.tude; but it was apparent that he had read more on the subject than he was ready to admit.

Once he quoted a pa.s.sage from "Unity of Good" [Footnote: By Mary Baker G. Eddy] and asked Mrs. Minturn to explain it, whereupon Katherine bent a look of surprise on him.

He caught her glance, flushed slightly, then smiled.

"Yes, Miss Minturn," he said, "after glancing at your book, that day when we met under the beech tree, I felt a curiosity to know more of what it contained, so bought a copy and--yes--read it through three times."

"Have you read 'Science and Health'?" inquired Mrs. Minturn.

"Yes, twice, and 'Miscellaneous Writings' [Footnote: By Mary Baker G. Eddy] once. What do you think of such a confession as that from a doubly dyed M.D.?" he concluded, with heightened color and stealing a side glance at his sister.

"I should say you are getting on pretty well," replied his hostess.

"No; I am not getting on at all," he a.s.serted, with an uncomfortable shrug. "I don't understand them and I find I am at cross-purposes all the time."

"Yes, I can comprehend that, if you are trying to mix materia medica and Science; you will have to drop one or the other, or still be at 'cross-purposes,'" returned the lady.

The gentleman made no reply, and the subject was changed.

"Well, Phillip, you electrified me this afternoon!" Mrs. Seabrook observed, when, later, they were by themselves at home.

"Why? Because of the books I confessed to having read?"

"Yes; when did you begin to be so interested in Christian Science?"

"When that child was healed of seasickness on shipboard."

"And--are you going to adopt it?"

"I don't know, Emelie. I haven't reached that point yet."

"I should hope not after all your years of study and practice, to say nothing about the expense involved," returned his sister, in a tone of disapproval, for she was exceedingly proud of her successful brother. "Are you becoming dissatisfied with your profession, Phillip?" she asked, after a moment.

"When I encounter a case like Dorrie's I am dissatisfied with it,"

he admitted, with a quiver of his mobile lips. "When I am called to a case that responds quickly to treatment, I feel all the old enthusiasm tingling within me. Then, again, when I attend our medical a.s.sociations and find the faculty discarding" methods and remedies which were once p.r.o.nounced 'wonderful discoveries,' and subst.i.tuting something new or something that had years ago been discarded, I become disgusted, and declare there is no science in materia medica; that it is but 'a bundle of speculative theories,'

as Mrs. Eddy puts it in her startling chapter on 'Medicine.'"

[Footnote: "Science and Health," page 149.]

"What rank heresy, Phil!" exclaimed his sister, with a laugh.

"I know it, and I have been in a very uncomfortable state of 'mental chemicalization'--which is another pat phrase coined by that same remarkable woman--over it for some time."

"Dear me! what is the world coming to with its ever-changing creeds, doctrines and opinions? One begins to feel that there is no really solid foundation to anything," replied Mrs. Seabrook, with a troubled brow. "Phillip!"--with a start and a sudden blanching of her face--"are you losing faith in your treatment of Dorothy?"

"I should have all faith if she were improving under it," he returned, moodily.

"But she isn't! You are seeing that as well as I," and the mother's voice broke with sudden anguish. "Oh, if you are losing faith I shall know there is no hope."

"Don't, Emelie," pleaded her brother; "I really am hoping much from this change--"

"Ah! that is equivalent to saying that you have exhausted your methods--that our only hope now is in a salubrious atmosphere, etc. It has been the same story, over and over," she wailed.

"Every physician we have had--his resources having failed--has suggested 'change of air and scene,' and 'hoped that nature would do the rest.' What do you doctors mean by that? What is 'nature'?"

she concluded, almost wildly.

"I see, Emelie, you feel that is a way of begging the question to secure release from a doubtful position," the man returned, sadly.

"Well"--with a sigh--"I am forced to admit that none of our remedies are infallible. But, it should not be so," he went on, thoughtfully, "For years I have felt it when disease has baffled me; there should be a panacea--a universal remedy, provided by an all-wise Creator for suffering humanity; but, ah! to find it!"

At those words Mrs. Seabrook started and looked up quickly.

"Have you those books--that you mentioned to-day--with you?" she inquired.

"Yes."

"I want to read them."

"Will would never forgive me for putting them into your hands."

Mrs. Seabrook sat suddenly erect.

"I am not a child that I must have my reading selected for me,"