quietly seated herself opposite him
looking at him with kindly, smiling eyes.

"And now," she said easily, "what does God's child think is the matter
with him?"

Eugene stirred irritably.

"God's child," he thought; "what cant!" What right had he to claim to be
a child of God? What was the use of beginning that way? It was silly, so
asinine. Why not ask plainly what was the matter with him? Still he
answered:

"Oh, a number of things. So many that I am pretty sure they can never be
remedied."

"As bad as that? Surely not. It is good to know, anyhow, that nothing is
impossible to God. We can believe that, anyhow, can't we?" she replied,
smiling. "You believe in God, or a ruling power, don't you?"

"I don't know whether I do or not. In the main, I guess I do. I'm sure I
ought to. Yes, I guess I do."

"Is He a malicious God to you?"

"I have always thought so," he replied, thinking of Angela.

"Mortal mind! Mortal mind!" she asseverated to herself. "What delusions
will it not harbor!"

And then to him:

"One has to be cured almost against one's will to know that God is a God
of love. So you believe you are sinful, do you, and that He is
malicious? It is not necessary that you should tell me how. We are all
alike in the mortal state. I would like to call your attention to
Isaiah's words, 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white
as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.'"

Eugene had not heard this quotation for years. It was only a dim thing
in his memory. It flashed out simply now and appealed, as had all these
Hebraic bursts of prophetic imagery in the past. Mrs. Johns, for all her
wen and her big nose and dowdy clothes, was a little better for having
been able to quote this so aptly. It raised her in his estimation. It
showed a vigorous mind, at least a tactful mind.

"Can you cure sorrow?" he asked grimly and with a touch of sarcasm in
his voice. "Can you cure heartache or fear?"

"I can do nothing of myself," she said, perceiving his mood. "All things
are possible to God, however. If you believe in a Supreme Intelligence,
He will cure you. St. Paul says 'I can do all things through Christ
which strengtheneth me.' Have you read Mrs. Eddy's book?"

"Most of it. I'm still reading it."

"Do you understand it?"

"No, not quite. It seems a bundle of contradictions to me."

"To those who are first coming into Science it nearly always seems so.
But don't let that wo