In thus making it appear as though it is the Infinite One, and not finite man, who is responsible for the world's discords, Dr. Eldrige Jr. did not express a sincere conviction, but he felt that it would be a great indiscretion to enter into any argument or discussion with Mrs. Thorpe at this time, and he sincerely hoped that she might catch some suggestion from his words that would tend to quiet her troubled mind. Yet, despite his good intentions, he was conscious of a haunting thought that for a deadly malady he was giving a medicine whose only virtue lay in its being smooth to the taste.
Mrs. Thorpe saw the flaw in his logic, and to her distorted vision it seemed like a fault in the Infinite plan; but she said no more. She was already sick at heart over what she considered her indiscretion. And she felt guilty of a sort of infidelity to her husband for having given voice to heresies that she knew would displease and offend him, and a thousand troubled thoughts surged through her brain. The glow had left her face and it now appeared pale and cold, and her eyes that had burned with so bright a light seemed dull as though covered with mist. Her voice, too, had lost its life and ring.
"You have been very kind to me, Dr. Eldrige," she said, "and I thank you."
The doctor arose to take his departure. "I have advised you both as a physician and a friend," he said, "to rid your mind of this unhappy train of thought, and I will add, find something to take up your time and attention; let it be amusing, entertaining, frivolous if you like, but give it your entire attention."
Mrs. Thorpe had arisen and stood confronting him. She now extended her hand to him, and her unfathomable eyes looked into his.
"You are my friend, Dr. Eldrige," she said. There was the conviction of a statement in the words, yet a catch in her voice and the intonation made it seem almost a question.
The doctor was quick of perception; instantly he understood her unworded request. He took her hand in his.
"I am your friend," he said, in a voice of utmost respect and sincerest sympathy. "And before God I will help you in any way that I can."
After the doctor left her, Mrs. Thorpe stood at her window and looked out at the somber autumn day. A gray mist hung in the air and red and yellow leaves lay in heaps in the corners of the yard. With her old habit still strong upon her, Mrs. Thorpe fell into reverie.
"Nature nursed the tiny leaves into life," she mused; "gave them form and color and permitted them to sport in happy freedom through all the days of summer, and now at the approach of winter she has bedecked them in gorgeous array."