“I won’t, daughter. I was only thinking, thinking how astute St. Peter was to find it out before The Hague conference told him so. I rather liked that in Peter, because Paul generally showed more intellect in the long run. Peter probably was the better manager, but I suspect Paul had more—more—Oh, what shall I call it?”
“Metaphysics?” suggested Frank Winchester, struggling to conceal intense amusement.
Mrs. Geyser, in the meantime, was not the sort of person to remain “sat upon,” as she thought, “in this outrageous manner.” Her own mental ebullitions began to demand utterance, but she managed to suppress external evidence. Nevertheless the cause she represented must be defended. Yes; in spite of Paul, Apollos, Cephas, Mrs. Cephas and Miss Cephas, the truth must prevail. She must witness to show how it could and would. She must tell how the greatest thing on earth should be applied as medicine. Sincerity called for strenuosity, the fundamental element in “our religion” must be made known, preached, and she did so, thusly:
“The maintenance of health and cure of disease occupy a large space in the religious faith of our society. Love is the greatest thing on earth, the fundamental thing with us. Love conquers all things, headache and neuralgia, backache and lumbago, all included, annual and perennial, the whole list, non-chronic and chronic. To apply religion scientifically we first fix truth and love steadfastly in the patient’s thoughts and explain what religious science is, but not too soon, not until the patient is prepared for it;” and then Mrs. Geyser continued to elucidate her method, incidentally remarking that medicine was never needed, not even for babies, not even in the mild form of a preparatory mixture. Frank Winchester recalled to memory the recent preparatory mental dose given by the Doctor to Mr. Onset, but said nothing. Adele, recently graduated, could not avoid asking the question:
“Have you a diploma?”
A very dignified attitude struck Mrs. Geyser in the small of her back when Adele innocently propounded this touchy question. She straightened up to reply. “Our diplomas are attested by the supernatural powers we exert. I deny that natural causes can account for our proceedings, I mean our results.”
“It looks just that way,” remarked Mrs. Cultus, while Mrs. Geyser continued:
“But to comply with the laws of the land and render unto Cæsar the things that are his I did take a course at our Metaphysical College—twelve half-days’ instruction at three hundred dollars for the course. Ample, I assure you, to satisfy any materialistic law-maker, and quite as expensive as many other colleges.” After this incidental announcement Mrs. Geyser seemed ready to resume the practice of her profession as teacher, but Adele, by this time, did not seem inclined to let it be done so easily. Evidently a climax was approaching in Adele’s own mind as to the duty of graduates.
“I notice, Mrs. Geyser, that you lay great stress upon cures.”
“Yes, they bear witness to the truth in our religious-science.”