Katherine's Sheaves Part 42

"See! Uncle Phil," cried his niece, the moment he appeared, and holding up some work for his inspection, "mamma is teaching me to f.a.got and hemst.i.tch, and I am going to make some pretty collars like hers," and the eager tone and sparkling eyes told how deeply interested the girl was in the novel employment.

The hitherto sunken cheeks were beginning to a.s.sume a graceful contour; the lips had taken on a decided tinge of scarlet, while an unaccustomed vigor in all her movements told of daily increasing strength, and the cheery ring in her voice was like music to loving hearts.

The man bent down to inspect the small piece of linen and the dainty st.i.tches, his face all aglow with inward thanksgiving as he praised her work.

"We will have you turning dressmaker next and setting up an establishment for yourself," he observed, in a sportive tone.

"Well, why not?" she gayly retorted. "If I took a notion to learn dressmaking, I am sure I could do it. But"--more gravely--"I am going to study like everything this winter and make up for lost time. Mamma and I have been talking it over, and she thinks I can begin the regular course if I want to. I do, and I mean to go through and graduate like any other student."

"Indeed! We are making great plans, aren't we?"

"Yes, I know it sounds big for me; but Mrs. Minturn says 'there is nothing we cannot do if we do not limit G.o.d,' and Miss Katherine says--"

"Well, what does Miss Katherine say?" queried her uncle, in an eager tone, as Dorothy paused to count the threads she was taking on her needle.

She looked up quickly into his face, his tone having attracted her.

"I guess you think she is pretty nice, too," she observed, naively.

"What has put that idea into your small head?"

"Oh! the way you speak of her and look at her sometimes, and-- well, of course"--with an appreciative sigh--"anybody couldn't help loving her."

"But you haven't told me what she said," persisted the man, but feeling the color mounting in his face as he caught the merry gleam in his sister's eyes.

"Oh! she said that 'G.o.d being the only intelligence, man reflects that intelligence, and there is nothing we cannot learn if we keep that in our thought as we study'; so you see, it is all right for me to plan to go through college if I want to," and the tone indicated that the matter was settled.

"'Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent and hast revealed them unto babes,'" quoted Phillip Stanley to himself, as he stooped to recover a spool that rolled from Mrs. Seabrook's lap.

At the same moment the sound of wheels fell upon their ears; the next, a carriage stopped before their door and a stalwart figure leaped to the ground.

"Papa!" "William!" fell simultaneously from the lips of the mother and daughter--one with a ring of triumph in her voice, the other with a note of intense yearning in her tones.

The man caught his wife to his breast.

"Sweetheart, it is joy to hold you here once more," he breathed, as their lips met; and she knew there was no cloud between them.

Then he turned and knelt beside his child, folding her in a long, silent embrace.

One swift glance into her bright, eager, happy face had told him a story that thrilled his soul and made him, for the moment, dumb.

"Papa, you can see, can't you?--and you are glad, aren't you?

"Dorothy at length observed, as she lifted wet but joyful eyes to his bronzed face.

"Darling, I can see, and I am more than 'glad,'" he returned, in a husky tone, as he gently released her, then arose to greet his brother-in-law.

"Phillip, old boy, it is good to be home again," he said, as he clasped the outstretched hand, and the hearty grip told the younger man that there would be no controversy between them over a previously mooted question, while he was strangely touched, when he added, with a smile that was somewhat tremulous:

"The cane is here, Phil, and at your disposal."

"What is that about a cane, papa?" cried Dorothy, whose quick ears had caught what he had said.

"I asked your father to bring me a nice cane from abroad," her uncle explained.

"Well, papa," the girl pursued, "I hope it is a very handsome one, and that you will make him a present of it, for you can never know how good Uncle Phil' has been to us."

Both gentlemen laughed, and were glad of the opportunity to give vent in this way to their pent-up emotions.

"All right, Dorrie; and when you see it you shall be the judge whether it is fine enough," replied the professor, as he turned again to feast his eyes upon the wonderful change in her.

A little later the lunch bell sounded, and the happy quartet went within to break bread together, for the first time in two long months. But one of the number could only make a pretense at eating--his heart was too full to allow him to do much but covertly watch his child, who was vigorously plying knife and fork and manifesting the appreciative appet.i.te of a normally hungry girl.

Of course, there was much to tell and talk over, and the afternoon slipped swiftly away, twilight coming upon them almost before "the half had been told."

The subject of Christian Science had been mutually avoided, and was not referred to until after dinner, when Mrs. Minturn came in for her usual visit to Dorothy.

Prof. Seabrook had never met her but once, and that was when she had visited Hilton to apply for Katherine's admission to the school. But he recognized her instantly, and greeted her with the utmost cordiality.

When her interview with Dorothy was over and she rejoined the group in the parlor, he invited her to be seated and placed a chair for her.

"But this is your first evening with your dear ones, and they should have the privilege of monopolizing you," she objected, with her charming smile.

"Nay, there are some things that must be said, you know, and they, I am sure, are longing to hear them," he returned, with visible emotion. "First, I have no words adequate to express my grat.i.tude for what you have done for my child."

"Not what I have done," the lady interposed, with gentle emphasis.

"I understand--and I have been trying to thank G.o.d every moment since my return," he said, "but you claim to be His messenger, or instrument, and surely we cannot ignore that fact. I left Dorrie pale and wasted to a mere shadow, scarcely able to move or help herself in any way. I find to-day a bright, animated girl, rapidly taking on flesh and strength, sitting upright in her chair-- sewing! How the wonder has been accomplished is beyond my comprehension. I had previously vetoed Christian Science treatment; to be frank, I contemptuously repudiated it. I can no longer hold it in derision, neither can I say that my att.i.tude towards it, as a science, or a religion, has changed."

"That is yet to come," said Mrs. Minturn, smiling, as he paused.

"I have read your text-book," he resumed, "but with a critical frame of mind that has been termed 'ecclesiastical and intellectual pride'"--this with a quizzical glance at his brother, who nodded back a sharp a.s.sent--"and I could or would find nothing good in it. To me it seemed atheistic, fallacious, heretical. You perceive I am not sparing myself in these admissions," he interposed, "but I have been doing some serious thinking during my return voyage, and now I am going to read that book again; not to criticise, but to get at its true inwardness if I can."

"That is a spirit that will surely bring its own reward," Mrs.

Minturn responded, her face luminous with admiration for the frank and conscientious acknowledgment which the man had made.

Mrs. Seabrook turned glad eyes upon her husband.

"And, William, we will have her keep on with the treatment, will we not?"

"a.s.suredly; one could never have the heart to stop the good work, even though one may not comprehend the method," he heartily responded, and the happy wife and mother heaved a sigh of supreme content.

They talked on for a while longer, then Mrs. Minturn gracefully took her leave and went home to tell Katherine that another prodigal was on his way to his Father's house.

CHAPTER XXII.

PHILLIP STANLEY'S FIRST DEMONSTRATION.