s not to try it," said Eloise. "Such a hopeless,
monotonous invalid."

"Well, some of her friends worked hard enough to induce her to, but when
she found out the mercenary side of it, she saw at once that it couldn't
be trustworthy."

"I suppose even Christian Scientists must have a roof and food and
clothes," returned Eloise coolly; "but I've thought a good deal the last
few days about the criticisms I've heard on the price of the book. The
fuss over that three dollars is certainly very funny, when the
average pocketbook goes to the theatre sometimes, has flowers for its
entertainments, and rejoices to find lace reduced from a dollar and a
quarter to ninety-five cents a yard for its gowns. It eagerly hoards and
spends three dollars for some passing pleasure or effect, but winces and
ponders over paying the same sum for a book that will last a lifetime,
and which, if it is worth anything, furnishes the key to every problem
in life."

"But why isn't it as cheap as the Bible if it is so beneficial?"

"It will be, probably, when it is generally respected. For the present
it wouldn't be wise to cast it about like pearls before swine." Eloise
smiled at herself. "You see I'm talking as if I knew it all. My wisdom
comes partially from what I have extracted from Jewel, and partly from
what is obvious. I haven't reached the place yet where I am convinced,
but this book is wonderfully interesting. It came to me in the darkest
hour I have ever known, and it has--it has seemed to feed me when I was
starving. I don't know how else to put it. I can't think of anything
else. Mother, why haven't we a Bible? I was ashamed when Jewel asked
me."

Mrs. Evringham, astonished and dismayed by her daughter's earnestness,
drew herself up. "We have a Bible, certainly. What an idea!"

"Where is it?" eagerly.

"In the storage warehouse with the other books."

Eloise's laugh nettled her mother.

"The prayer books are upstairs on my table. What more do you want if you
are going to take an interest in such things? I wish you would, dear,
and embroider an altar cloth while you are here. I'm sure father would
gladly contribute the materials and feel a pride in it."

"Oh mother," Eloise still smiled, "you know he never goes to church."

"But he contributes largely."

"Well, I haven't time to embroider altar cloths. Shall I get the story?"

"Yes, do. We'll go around the corner, out of the wind."

Meanwhile Dr. Ballard's buggy was coverin