it: her doctor was gone, and the
old physician, with great effort, came instead, sat by her, spoke kindly
to her, left wise directions to her attendants, and above all assured
them that, if they would have a little patience, they would see all this
storm blow over.

On the third night after his visit, the spirit rent her sore, and came
out of her, or, in the phrase of to-day, she had a fierce paroxysm,
after which the violence of the conflict ceased, and she might be called
convalescent so far as that was concerned.

But all this series of nervous disturbances left her in a very
impressible and excitable condition. This was just the state to invite
the spiritual manipulations of one of those theological practitioners
who consider that the treatment of all morbid states of mind short
of raving madness belongs to them and not to the doctors. This same
condition was equally favorable for the operations of any professional
experimenter who would use the flame of religious excitement to light
the torch of an earthly passion. So many fingers that begin on the black
keys stray to the white ones before the tune is played out!

If Myrtle Hazard was in charge of any angelic guardian, the time was at
hand when she would need all celestial influences; for the Rev. Joseph
Bellamy Stoker was about to take a deep interest in her spiritual
welfare.'

CHAPTER XII. SKIRMISHING.

"So the Rev. Joseph Bellamy Stoker has called upon you, Susan Posey, has
he? And wants you to come and talk religion with him in his study, Susan
Posey, does he? Religion is a good thing, my dear, the best thing in the
world, and never better than when we are young, and no young people need
it more than young girls. There are temptations to all, and to them as
often as to any, Susan Posey. And temptations come to them in places
where they don't look for them, and from persons they never thought
of as tempters. So I am very glad to have your thoughts called to the
subject of religion. 'Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth.'

"But Susan Posey, my dear, I think you hard better not break in upon
the pious meditations of the Rev. Joseph Bellamy Stoker in his private
study. A monk's cell and a minister's library are hardly the places for
young ladies. They distract the attention of these good men from their
devotions and their sermons. If you think you must go, you had better
take Mrs. Hopkins with you. She likes religious conversation, and it
wi