“Why, I've always known it, cousin Eloise,” returned the child simply.
“You dear baby. You haven't lived long. I don't want to climb into a fool's paradise only to fall out with a dull thud.”
Jewel looked at her, grasping as well as she could her meaning. “I know I'm only a little girl; but if you should go to church with me,” she said, “you'd see a lot of grown-up people who know it's true. Then we could go on Wednesday evenings and hear them tell what Christian Science has done for them.”
“Oh, I'm sure I shouldn't like that,” responded Eloise quickly. “How can they bear to tell!”
“They don't think it's right not to. There are lots of other people besides you that are sorry and need to learn the truth.”
The rebuke was so innocent and, withal, so direct, that honest Eloise turned toward Jewel and made an impulsive grasp toward her, capturing nothing but the edge of the child's dress, which she held firmly.
“You're right, Jewel. I'm a selfish, thin-skinned creature,” she declared.
The little girl shook her head. “You've got to stop thinking you are, you know,” she answered. “You have to know that the error Eloise isn't you.”
“That's mortal mind, I suppose,” returned Eloise, smiling at the sound of the phrase.
“I should think it was! Old thing! Always trying to cheat us!” said Jewel. “All that you have to do is to remember every minute that God's child must be manifested. He inherits every good and perfect thing, and has dominion over every belief of everything else.”