he invalid had again caught the infection of Phillida's faith, and with
a strong effort, helping herself by putting her hand on Phillida's
shoulder, she brought herself at length to her feet, where she stood a
moment, tottering as though about to fall.

"Walk to the chair, dear, nothing wavering," commanded Phillida, and
Mina, with much trembling, let go of Phillida's shoulder, and with sadly
unsteady steps tottered forward far enough to lay hold of the back of
the chair, and at length succeeded, with much ado, in sitting down
without assistance. For years she had believed herself forever beyond
hope of taking a step. She leaned back against the pillow placed behind
her by Phillida, and wept for very joy.

"But, Miss Callender," she said after a while, "the man you read about
in the Bible was made all well at once, and he walked and leaped; but
I--"

"Perhaps our faith isn't strong enough," said Phillida. "Maybe it is
better for us that you should get well slowly, like the man that Jesus
cured of blindness, who, when he first saw men, thought they looked like
walking trees. Let us be thankful for what we have, and not complain."

In a few weeks Wilhelmina's mental stimulation and graduated physical
exercise had made her able to sit up nearly all day, to walk feebly
about the house, and even to render some assistance in such affairs as
could be attended to while sitting. The recovery, though it went no
farther, was remarkable enough to attract much attention, and the fame
of it spread far and wide among the people in the eastern avenues and
those connected with the Mission.

This new development of Phillida's life increased her isolation. She
could not speak to her family about her faith-cures, nor to Mrs.
Hilbrough, and she did not like to confide even in Mrs. Frankland, who
would, she felt sure, make too much of the matter. Most of all, it was
not in her power to bring herself to say anything to Millard about it.
The latter felt, during the three or four weeks that followed the
treatment of Wilhelmina, that the veil between him and the inner life of
Phillida was growing more opaque. He found no ground to quarrel with
Phillida; she was cordial, affectionate, and dutiful toward him, but he
felt, with a quickness of intuition characteristic of him, that there
was some new cause of constraint between them.

"Phillida," he said one evening, a month after Phillida's work as a
faith-doctor had begun, "I wish you would t