ths. For these are cataracts that
you have on your eyes, and nothing would have been simpler and
easier than their removal."
Amazement, incredulity, almost horror were written upon Aunt
Dalmanutha's countenance as she heard these quiet words.
"Where do you get your authority over preachers, woman?" she
demanded, leaning fiercely forward,
"I get my authority," replied the trained nurse, firmly, "from my
knowledge of modern medicine and surgery; I get my authority from
things seen with my eyes and heard with my ears during days and
nights of duty on the battle-line between life and death; I get my
authority," she continued more solemnly, "from Him whose spirit of
freedom and tolerance has made possible the advances in modern
science; who is the source of the rising tide of helpfulness
manifest in human hearts everywhere; who, when he was on earth, went
about doing good, and proclaiming not the hate, the vengeance, the
cruelty of God, but His mercy, His kindness, His pity, His fatherly
love."
The blind woman sat as though turned to stone, except that the veins
in her neck and temples throbbed violently.
"Do you mean to tell me God never wanted to take my loved ones from
me?" she asked at length from a dry throat.
"I do. I mean that their deaths, so far from being the will of God,
were the fruit alone of ignorance and of evil conditions."
"You mean to say that the hand of vengeance wa' n't never lifted
ag'in' me, and I hain't never sot under no curse?"
"I do."
"And that the preachers has lied to me?" she said through clenched
jaws.
"They were simply mistaken; they knew no better."
Aunt Dalmanutha lifted a shaking arm. "Woe to them if ever they
cross my path ag'in!" she cried hoarsely.
"Don't think about them," said the nurse; "the thing for you to do
at once is to go down to Lexington, in the Blue Grass country, to a
doctor I know there who does great things for eyes, and who, if it
is not too late, will remove those cataracts and restore you to
sight and usefulness and strength, as God intends. I will write at
once to the hospital, and make the arrangements; you should start
within a week. The trip," she added, "need cost you nothing, if you
are unable to pay your way."
Aunt Dalmanutha drew herself up proudly.
"I hain't a' object of charity," she said. "If I go, I 'll pay my
way. I got something laid by still from my weaving days. But it
has come on me too sudden'; I feel all lost;
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