unhappy? "You have a
sensitive conscience, Jewel," he returned.

Here Sarah entered, set down the tray with pitcher, glasses, and spoon,
and departed. The doctor loosed the little hand he had been holding,
took up his case, and opened it.

Jewel watched him with apprehension. "That's--medicine isn't it?" she
asked with bated breath.

"Yes." The doctor carefully selected a bottle of liquid and set it on
the table. "I think this one will do us."

Jewel's remark on the train about materia medica recurred to him, and he
smiled.

"Dr. Ballard, aren't you a Christian?" she asked suddenly.

He glanced up. "I hope so."

"Then you'll forgive me if I won't take medicine. I put out my tongue,
and I sucked the little glass thing because I didn't want to trouble
you; but I have too much faith in God to take medicine." The child
looked at the doctor appealingly.

He began to see light, and in his surprise, for a moment he did not
reply.

"Jesus Christ would have used drugs if they had been right," she added.

"But He isn't here now," returned the astonished young man.

"Why, Dr. Ballard," in gentle reproach, "Christ is the Truth of God.
Isn't He here now, healing us and helping us just the same as ever?
Didn't He say He would be? You will see how much better I shall be
to-night."

Dr. Ballard met the heavy eyes with his own kind, clear ones. "I see you
have been taught in new ways, Jewel," he said seriously, "but you are
only a little girl, and while you are in your grandfather's house you
ought to do as he wishes. He wishes you to let me prescribe for you. No
one who is ill can help making trouble. You have no right not to try to
get well in the way Mr. Evringham and Mrs. Forbes wish you to."

Jewel felt herself in a desperate position. The corners of her lips
twitched down. Dr. Ballard thought he saw his advantage, and leaned his
fine head toward her. She impulsively threw her arms around his neck.

"You don't want to hurt my feelings, Jewel," he said. She was crying
softly.

"No--it would make me--very--sorry, but it would be--worse--to
hurt--God's. Please don't make me, please, please don't make me, Dr.
Ballard!"

She was increasingly excited, and he feared the effect.

"Very well then, Jewel," he returned. "I don't want to do you more harm
than good."

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed fervently, through her tears.

"But Mrs. Forbes must think you have the medicine. You haven't told her
that you are--ahem-