his
way, and I am sometimes supported by only one of them. But I never give
way on that account. It's a great and glorious work that must be
pushed."

"But if the child should die?" urged Phillida.

"It's not half so apt to die if treated on the spiritual plane; and if
it dies we'll know that we have done all that opportunity offered. In
all such cases the true physician can only commend the patient to the
care of a loving Providence, feeling assured that disorder has its laws
and limitations and that suffering is a means of developing the inner
nature."

Having reeled this off like a phrase often spoken, Miss Bowyer walked
over to the bed where the little lad lay.

"Miss Bowyer," said Mrs. Martin, with an earnestness born of her agony,
"I don't believe in your treatment at all."

"That's not necessary," said the doctor with a jaunty firmness; "the
faith of one parent is sufficient to save the sick."

"This is my child, and I wish you to leave him alone," said Mrs. Martin.

"I am called by the child's father, Mrs. Martin, and I can not shirk my
responsibility in this case."

"Please leave my house. I don't want you here," said Mrs. Martin, with
an excitement almost hysterical. "I believe you are an impostor."

"I've often been called that," said Miss Bowyer, with a winning smile.
"Used to it. One has to bear reproach and persecution in a Christian
spirit for the sake of a good cause. You are only delaying the cure of
your child, and perhaps risking his precious life."

"Henry," said Mrs. Martin, "I want you to send this woman away and get a
doctor."

"Hannah, I'm the head of this family," said Martin, dropping his chin
and looking ludicrously impressive. But as a matter of precaution he
thought it best to leave the conflict to be fought out by Miss Bowyer.
He feared that if he stayed he might find himself deposed from the only
leadership that had ever fallen to his lot in life. So he executed a
strategic move by quitting his breakfast half-finished and hurrying away
to the shop.

Miss Bowyer was now exultingly confident that nothing short of force and
a good deal of it could dislodge a person of her psychic endurance from
the post of duty.

She began to apply her hands to Tommy's neck, but as there was external
soreness, the little lad wakened and cried for his mother and "the
teacher," as he called Phillida.

Mrs. Martin approached him and said: "Miss Bowyer, this is my child;
stand aside."

"Not a