"It would be regarded as the height of absurdity," he muttered to himself. "But I wonder--I really would like to put it to the test."

Then suddenly straightening himself with a resolute air, he quickened his pace and was soon inside the school grounds, reaching the building just in season to a.s.sist Mrs. Seabrook and the nurse in getting Dorothy inside.

"Oh! Uncle Phillip!" joyously exclaimed the girl, as soon as she espied him, for she dearly loved this gentle man, who was always as tender as a woman in his treatment of her, and spared no pains to contribute to her comfort and happiness. "I was afraid you would not come to-day!"

"I know I am late, Dorrie, but I was detained at the office by a new patient, and now I have another coming in an hour," he said, as he bent to touch her forehead with his lips.

"Oh then you can't stay to finish that pretty German story!" cried the child, in a tone of disappointment.

"Not to-day, dearie; but I will come to-morrow, to let mamma and papa go to church together, and we will have a fine time by ourselves."

Patient Dorothy expressed herself as perfectly satisfied with this arrangement, and was soon laughing merrily over some amusing incidents, of which this good comrade of hers appeared to have an exhaustless store.

These visits from her "jolly M.D. uncle," as she sometimes called him, were like oases in a desert to the suffering child, for he invariably made her forget herself, and always left her bright and happy with something pleasant to think about and talk over with her mother or nurse.

He rolled her to her room, where, after a few minutes' chat, he made a brief examination of her condition, with some slight change in her medicines, then left her and sought Prof. Seabrook in his study, for it was his custom to report to him after each visit.

"Well?" he questioned, eagerly, as the physician entered the room, for the child was "the apple of his eye," and he watched her every symptom most jealously.

"I think Dorrie is holding her own pretty well."

"Oh! Phillip, that is the same old story that Dr. Abbot used to tell me before you came home and took the case," Prof. Seabrook exclaimed, in a disheartened tone.

"I know, Will; it must grow monotonous to you," said his brother- in-law, as he laid a sympathetic hand on his companion's arm.

"But, truly, there is nothing else to tell you; you instructed me to give you 'facts with no evasions,' and honor compels me to obey you."

"True; and I know you will bring all your skill, all your experience to bear upon the case," said the yearning father, with a note of pathetic appeal in his voice that touched his listener deeply.

"Most a.s.suredly," earnestly returned the physician; but an involuntary, though quickly repressed, sigh escaped him as he said it.

Prof. Seabrook's keen ear detected it and a spasm of fear clutched his heart. But he would not voice it; he shrank from having it corroborated.

"There is one thing more which could be done, which might, perhaps, result in giving Dorrie relief from the troublesome pain," said Dr. Stanley, after a moment of thought, adding: "I have been waiting for her to get stronger before suggesting it."

"What is it?" briefly inquired his companion.

The young man explained the operation, and the father shivered involuntarily.

"That means great suffering--at least for a time," he said, with dry lips.

"Yes," and Phillip Stanley's eyes grew very pitiful as they met the almost hopeless ones opposite him.

"I cannot bear it!" cried his brother-in-law, pa.s.sionately.

There followed a somber silence of several minutes, during which each heart struggled in secret rebellion under the galling burden imposed upon it.

"There is an alternative which we might try before attempting such radical treatment," Dr. Stanley at length remarked, with some hesitation. "It--at least it could do no harm, if--if you are willing to try."

"Anything--anything that will spare my child to me and save her suffering," burst impetuously from William Seabrook's lips.

"You have heard of--Christian Science?"

"What!" demanded the astonished princ.i.p.al of Hilton Seminary, sitting suddenly erect and bending a look of scorn upon his companion. "You suggest such an absurd alternative as that to me, and for such a case as this!"

"I know it sounds absurd; but, as I said before, it could at least do no harm."

"The suggestion is ridiculous; I have no patience with it," was the sharp retort.

"Well, it may seem ridiculous to you, but if it can cure one disease I do not know why it could not others," the physician mildly rejoined; and then he proceeded to relate the story which Katherine had told her teacher that same hour, but without mentioning any names.

"Nonsense! It was simply hypnotism, mesmerism," said the elder man when he concluded.

"No, it did not work at all like hypnotism," was the positive reply. "However, if you are opposed to trying it, there is nothing more to be said."

"I am opposed to it, most decidedly," said the professor, almost harshly, and his brother wondered at his unusual mood. "I believe the whole thing--root, branch and practice--to be an invention of Satan himself, and I would not give it countenance under any circ.u.mstances."

"Not even to save your nearest and dearest?" queried Phillip Stanley, and wholly unable to account for the excitement and irritability of his usually dignified and high-bred relative.

The professor deigned no reply, but the obstinate frown upon his brow and the stern compression of his lips were sufficient warning that it would be useless to pursue the subject.

"Well, it was only a suggestion, Will," the younger man said, in a friendly tone. "Of course, I have no real faith in the efficacy of the method myself; only, as I shrink from the operation on a delicate girl like Dorrie, it occurred to me that we might at least give Christian Science a trial. But I must be off to meet another appointment. I will be up again to-morrow morning to stay with Dorothy while you and Emilie go to church."

He held out his hand, which his brother-in-law grasped and wrung.

"You are a faithful friend, Phil. Don't think for a moment that I do not appreciate you; but I believe I've been out of sorts for several days," said the professor, with a deprecatory smile.

"It's all right, old boy; good-by," was the cheery response, as the young man went out, softly closing the door after him, but with a weary look in his eyes which the other did not see.

CHAPTER V.

KATHERINE'S FIRST SABBATH AT HILTON.

Katherine's first Sabbath at Hilton Seminary dawned a perfect winter morning, and, starting forth in good season, she sought the little hall on Grove Street, where the few Scientists of the city met each week to enjoy the service which has become so dear to the heart of every student of G.o.d's word, as spiritually interpreted according to Christian Science.

She had carefully studied the lesson during the week, and was therefore prepared to enjoy to the utmost each section as its point was clearly brought out by the readers, to teach and bless; and so, when she again turned her steps homeward, she felt calmed, refreshed and strengthened for the duties that lay before her.

As she was about to enter the building she encountered Prof. and Mrs. Seabrook, who also had just returned from church.

The former glanced askance at her books, lifted his hat to her with frigid politeness, and pa.s.sed on to his study.

Mrs. Seabrook, however, paused and greeted her most cordially, whereupon Katherine inquired for Dorothy.

"She was not quite as well this morning," replied the mother, an expression of care and weariness flitting over her sweet face. "My brother, Dr. Stanley, has been with her while we were at church, and I hope to find her better, for he always does her good.

Dorothy was greatly attracted to you yesterday, Miss Minturn," she added, smiling, "and I hope you will find time to drop in to see her now and then."