them capable of any disrespect to you that
would merit--say, burning or something severe like that?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, don't you really believe that God is farther beyond you or me or
the foolish boy that wrote this, than we are beyond those babies--with a
greater, bigger point of view, a fuller love? Imagine the God that made
everything--the worlds and birds and flowers and butterflies and babies
and mountains--imagine him feeling insulted because one of his wretched
little John Smiths or Bernal Linfords babbles little human words about
him, or even worries his poor little human heart with doubts of His
existence!"

"My child, yours is but a finite mind, unable to limit or define the
Infinite. What is it, anyway--is it Christian Science taking hold of
you, or that chap who preaches that they have the Messiah re-incarnated
and now living in Syria--Babbists, aren't they--or is it theosophy--or
are you simply dissatisfied with Allan?" A sudden shrewd glance from
Aunt Bell's baby-blue eyes went with this last.

Nancy laughed, then grew serious. "I think the last is it, Aunt Bell. A
woman seems to doubt God and everything else after she begins to doubt
the husband she has loved. Really, I find myself questioning
everything--every moral standard."

"Nance, you are an ungrateful woman to speak like that of Allan!"

"I never should have done it, dear, if you hadn't made me believe you
knew. I should have thought it out all by myself, and then acted, if I
found I could with any conscience."

"Eh? Mercy! You couldn't. The _idea!_ And there's Allan, now. Come!"

The Doctor was on the threshold. "So here you are! Well, I've just sent
Mrs. Eversley away in tears."

He dropped into an arm-chair with a little half-humorous moan of
fatigue.

"It's a relief, sometimes, to know you can relax and let your whole
weight absolutely down on to the broad earth!" he declared.

"Mrs. Eversley?" suggested Aunt Bell.

"Well, the short of it is, she told me her woes and begged me to give my
sanction to her securing a divorce!"

Nancy sat up from her pillows. "Oh--and you _did?_"

"_Nancy!_" It was low, but clear, quick-spoken, stern, and hurt. "You
forget yourself. At least you forget my view and the view of my Church.
Even were I out of the Church, I should still regard marriage as a
sacrament--indissoluble except by death. The very words--'Whom God hath
joined'"--he became almost oratorical in his warmth--"Surely you wou