"No, Philip; we have tried everything—every school, and countless specialists, for eight years," said Mrs. Seabrook, wearily. "I have more confidence in you than in anyone else, for I know that you are putting your whole heart into the case, and yet—"
"What is it, Emelie? Do not fear to speak your mind freely," said her brother, encouragingly.
"Phillip, what do you think of the Christian Scientists? Would it be too ridiculous to try their method for a while?" she faltered, and flushing crimson.
Dr. Stanley smiled.
"Has Dorothy been talking to you also about the miracles of nineteen hundred years ago?" he inquired, evasively.
"No; what do you mean?"
He related his recent conversation with his niece on the subject, and told of his promise to read the Scripture references she had given him.
"I kept my word," he said, in conclusion, "and became so interested that I read the account of every miracle that Christ and His apostles performed."
"Oh! Dorrie never tires of reading or of asking questions about them," returned Mrs. Seabrook; "but that has had nothing to do with my thought. Something very queer has occurred during the last twenty-four hours. You remember I spoke to you yesterday regarding Miss Reynolds' illness?"
"Yes; you thought her condition rather serious, I believe."