Katherine's Sheaves Part 38

CHAPTER XX.

INTERESTING DEVELOPMENTS.

Phillip Stanley sped across the street to do his errand and inquired for Katherine.

She heard his voice and went directly to him when he told her what her mother had just said about Dorrie, and the light that leaped into her great brown eyes inspired him with fresh hope.

"Ah! mamma is holding her in the 'secret place,' and we know she is safe," she said, in a reverent tone.

She quickly brought the wrapper; then, with a brief handclasp, he bade her "good-night" and retraced his steps.

Before going upstairs he sought the kitchen, where the cook was lingering, thinking something might be needed, and ordered a dainty lunch prepared; then, taking both tray and garment, he left them at Dorrie's door and pa.s.sed on to the next room to find his sister just waking.

"Phillip!" she cried, starting up, "I have been asleep!"

"Yes, Emelie, for more than three hours, I am glad to say."

"Oh, how inconsiderate of me! And--Dorrie?" she questioned, in a quavering voice.

"Is more comfortable. She has been awake twice, and had two gla.s.ses of milk," replied her brother, as he laid a gentle, but restraining hand upon her shoulder, for she was on the point of rising.

She regarded him wonderingly.

"Phillip! I can't believe it! I must go to her," she said, almost breathless.

"No; Mrs. Minturn is going to remain all night. She says she is not to be disturbed, and we must respect her wishes," said Dr.

Stanley, authoritatively. "She will call you if you are needed, but says she wants us both to rest, if possible. Now lie down again, dear, and I will sit in the Morris chair in the hall, to be near if you wish to speak to me."

Mrs. Seabrook sat irresolute a moment, her eyes anxious and yearning.

"Emelie, you have voluntarily given Dorrie into G.o.d's hands; now prove that you trust Him," her companion gravely admonished.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Yes, I will; and I believe that 'His hand is not shortened that it cannot save, nor His ear heavy that it cannot hear,'" she replied, and immediately lay back upon her pillow.

Her brother covered her with a shawl, then left her with a thankful heart, for he knew she was sadly in need of rest.

Going to his room, he secured his copy of "Science and Health,"

and, retracing his steps, settled himself to read by the table in the hall, which was often used as a sitting room.

As he sat down he observed that Mrs. Minturn's wrapper and the tray had disappeared; then he became absorbed in his book.

The next he knew a hand was laid softly on his shoulder, and, starting erect, he saw that a new day was just breaking and Mrs.

Minturn standing beside him, looking as fresh and serene as if she had just come from hours of sweet repose instead of from a long night's vigil.

"Dorrie is hungry," she said, "and I think it would be well if you would arouse one of the maids and have something nice prepared for her."

"I will; what shall it be?" said the man, springing nimbly to his feet, but scarcely able to credit his ears.

"A dropped egg and a slice of toast, with a gla.s.s of milk, will perhaps be forthcoming as quickly as any-thing--"

"Wait, Phil--don't call anyone. I will get it," interposed Mrs.

Seabrook's voice, just behind them. "Dorrie hungry!" she added, wonderingly. She had heard Mrs. Minturn's request, and hurried out to convince herself that she was not dreaming.

"Yes, so she says," said Mrs. Minturn, smiling serenely into the questioning eyes, "and when her breakfast is ready I think she will prove the truth of her words to you."

Away sped the mother, marveling at what she had heard, but with a hymn of praise thrilling her heart; and, ten minutes later, as she moved lightly over the stairs again, she heard a sweet, though weak, voice saying:

"Listen, Mrs. Minturn!--just hear the birds sing!"

Phillip Stanley heard it also, as he sat in the hall, his head bowed upon his hands, while great tears rolled over his cheeks and dropped unheeded on the floor; and, as the feathered choristers without sweetly chirped their tuneful matins, his grateful heart responded with reverent joy--"Glory to G.o.d in the highest."

As Mrs. Seabrook entered Dorrie's room and saw the change in the loved face--still very thin and white, it is true, but with a look of peace on the brow, the eyes bright, the pale lips wreathed with smiles--her composure well-nigh forsook her.

"Mamma, hear the birds!--and it isn't sunrise yet!" she said again, as her mother approached her.

"Yes, dear; but I hear what is far sweeter music to me," the woman replied, making a huge effort at self-control. "So you are hungry, Dorrie!" she added, bending to kiss the lips uplifted to greet her.

"Yes, really and truly hungry, and so happy; for my cold and the pain are all gone. How kind of Mrs. Minturn to stay with me! Did you sleep, mamma?"

"Like a kitten, dear. I think we have a great deal to thank Mrs.

Minturn for," said Mrs. Seabrook, bending a grateful look upon her friend.

"That tastes good," Dorrie observed, as she partook, with evident relish, of the delicately prepared egg, "and how nicely you do toast bread! It looks almost like gold."

She was silent a moment, then resumed:

"Mamma, I wish you could have heard how beautifully Mrs. Minturn talked to me, last night, every time I awoke; and repeated such lovely things from the Bible. Of course, I have heard them before, but, somehow, they sound different as she says them."

"And you begin to see that G.o.d never made or intended anyone to be sick or suffer; that it is your right to be well and strong. You will try to think of that often to-day, will you not, Dorothy?"

said Mrs. Minturn, as she lifted the small hand near her, to find no fever but a gentle moisture in the palm, instead.

"Yes, and I've a better idea now of what Miss Katherine once said about G.o.d--that He is Mind and perfect, and if we would let this perfect Mind rule us we would be well. What was that you read me from your little book about it feeding the body?" the girl earnestly inquired.

"'Mind constantly feeds the body with supernal freshness and fairness,'" [Footnote: "Science and Health," page 248.] quoted Mrs. Minturn.

"Yes, that was it; if that is true, people should never be sick,"

said Dorothy, with a little sigh. "No, and they would not be if they only knew how to let the divine Mind control them. You are going to learn how, Dorothy, and so find yourself growing strong and well with every day," said Mrs. Minturn, with a cheery smile.

"I wish I knew more about it," Dorothy wistfully observed. "Mamma, why cannot we have a book like Mrs. Minturn's?"

"We will have, dear," was the prompt response. "Have you had enough?"--as the girl gently put away the half-eaten slice of toast.

"Yes, when I have had the milk." She drank it all and then lay back, smiling contentedly. "It is so nice not to have any pain,"

she added; "it makes me love everybody. Ha! Uncle Phil"--for the man was peering in at the door, unable to keep away a moment longer--"come here and I will kiss you 'good-morning.'"

Mrs. Seabrook could bear no more and stole away with her tray to hide the tears she could no longer restrain.