Jeannette met Alice in the hallway and her first question was of the sick child. Alice kissed her with affection and hugged her warmly.
“I don’t think anything’s the matter,” she said reassuringly. “Nothing in the world but an old-fashioned stomach-ache; something she’s eaten,—that’s all. I thought it wiser to keep her in bed for to-day,—give her insides a good rest.”
“Why, Baby Roy said it was appendicitis!”
“Oh, nonsense! The child isn’t any more sick than I am!”
“Well, it gave me quite a turn.”
“Of course!” agreed Alice.
Jeannette eyed her sister a moment in suspicion. Allie’s vehement rejection of the idea that anything might be seriously the matter suggested Christian Science. Jeannette had heard Mrs. Eddy’s teachings discussed more or less frequently of late by her sister and brother-in-law. She suspected they both leaned toward that faith but lacked courage to come out openly and declare themselves. She wondered how far these idiotic principles had laid hold of them, and now, with a searching glance, she asked:
“Has error crept in?”
Alice blushed readily and laughed.
“I don’t know anything about that. If she’s any worse to-morrow, I’ll send for the doctor.