Professor Vane did not answer at once, and Mrs. Thorpe who had listened in silence, waited anxiously for his reply.
Mrs. Mayhew believed she knew what was in her brother's mind. She recalled a frail little woman tortured with pain, whom her brother used to carry in his arms, and lift from one position to another. This woman, his wife had been restored to health and strength, and the joy of living, by a digression from accepted creeds and doctrines. A system of Christian healing had restored her.
"How far we have a right to judge another's conception of God is a mooted question," Professor Vane said thoughtfully. "If I err I hope it may be on the side of charity."
"On the side of charity, yes," said Mr. Thorpe; "but I can see little love or justice in allowing doubts and fallacies to intrench themselves in the consciousness of another." He could not quibble over this question, nor fail to express himself fearlessly, even though he should strike a blow nearer Professor Vane's heart then the students under his care. He was strong in the belief of his own just purpose.
Mrs. Mayhew with quick perception read his design. She knew that he had never reconciled Mrs. Vane's recovery with any grain of spiritual truth. But she saw the blood surge into Mrs. Thorpe's face, and she knew that his well aimed blow had struck where he had not meant that it should.
She laid her hand on Mrs. Thorpe's shoulder, "Let us leave the gentlemen to their theology," she said, "Come with me and watch the children go to bed; it will do you good to see them."
One by one the little garments came off and little white slips went on. Shoes were untied, and stockings removed, and little pink toes peeped out.
A visitor in the nursery at bedtime was an unusual occurrence, and unusually good order prevailed; yet Charley insisted on getting into his gown feet first, as he considered it unmanly to have it put over his head, and Mabel refused to be comforted because nurse unbuttoned Mattie's pinafore first. The three-year-old baby insisted on disrobing without assistance from anyone, and cried lustily because he could not untie his little red shoes.
But finally all troubles were overcome, the little hearts were comforted and all was quiet. Then by each little white bed a white-robed figure knelt with clasped hands and lisped a childish prayer.
Mrs. Thorpe kissed each child a happy good-night, and wished them sweet and pleasant dreams. But Mrs. Mayhew noticed that there was a strange expression on her face, and that the troubled look had not left her eyes since their talk in the morning.