"You believe in that?" asked Catherine, abruptly.
"Assuredly! How can I do otherwise, seeing that it is the Key to the Soul of Nature?" "That's too deep for me!" said Dr. Brayle, pouring himself out a glass of whisky and mixing it with soda-water—"If it's a riddle I give it up!"
Santoris was silent. There was a moment's pause. Then Catherine leaned forward across the table, looking at him with tired, questioning eyes.
"Could you not explain?" she murmured.
"Easily!" he answered—"Anyone can understand it with a little attention. What I mean is this,—you know that the human body outwardly expresses its inward condition of health, mentality and spirituality—well, in exactly the same way Nature, in her countless varying presentations of beauty and wisdom, expresses the Soul of herself, or the spiritual force which supports her existence. 'Spiritual science' is the knowledge, not of the outward effect so much as of the inward cause which makes the effect manifest. It is a knowledge which can be applied to the individual daily uses of life,—the more it is studied, the more reward it bestows, and the smallest portion of it thoroughly mastered, is bound to lead to some discovery, simple or complex, which lifts the immortal part of a man a step higher on the way it should go."
"You are satisfied with your researches, then?" asked Mr. Harland.
Santoris smiled gravely.
"Do I look like a man that has failed?" he answered.
Mr. Harland studied his handsome face and figure with ill-concealed envy.
"You went abroad from Oxford?" he queried.