d not make a stir. But she
has set out to do what she thinks is right at all hazards. Presently she
will get her lesson, and some of her oddities will disappear, but she'll
never be just like common folks. Mind my words, Charley, she's got the
making of a splendid woman if you'll only give her time to get ripe."

"I believe that with all my heart," said Millard, with a sigh.

"I tell you, Charley, I do believe that her prayers have a great effect,
for the Bible teaches that. Besides, she don't talk any of the nonsense
of father's Christian Science woman. I can understand what Phillida's
about. But Miss what's-her-name, in Fourteenth street, can't explain to
save her life, so's you can understand, how she cures people, or what
she's about, except to earn money in some way easier than hard work.
There comes your uncle, loaded to the muzzle for a dispute," said Aunt
Hannah, laughing mischievously as she heard her husband's step on the
stairs.

Uncle Martin greeted Charley with zest. It was no fun to talk to his
wife, who never could be drawn into a discussion, but held her husband's
vagaries in check as far as possible by little touches of gentle
ridicule. But Mr. Martin was sure that he could overwhelm Charley
Millard, even though he might not convince him. So when he had said,
"How-are-yeh, and glad to see yeh, Charley, and hope yer well, and how's
things with you?" he sat down, and presently opened his battery.

"You see, Charley, our Miss Bowyer, the Christian Science healer, is
well-posted about medicine and the Bible. She says that the world is
just about to change. Sin and misery are at the bottom of sickness, and
all are going to be done away with by spirit power. God and the angel
world are rolling away the rock from the sepulchre, and the sleeping
spirit of man is coming forth. People are getting more susceptible to
magnetic and psy--psy-co-what-you-may-call-it influences. This is
bringing out new diseases that the old doctors are only able to look at
with dumb amazement."

Here Uncle Martin turned his thumbs outward with a flourish, and the air
of a lad who had solved a problem on a blackboard. At the same time he
dropped his head forward and gazed at Charley, who was not even amused.

"What are her proofs?" demanded Millard, wearily.

"Proofs?" said Uncle Martin, with a sniff, as he reared his head again.
"Proofs a plenty. You just come around and hear her explain once about
the vermic--I can't say the w