Katherine’s lip quivered slightly at this caustic
remark and the accompanying scorn on the high-bred
face; and the flush which had risen to her cheek a
moment before vanished, leaving her quite pale, although
in no way disconcerted.
“But I believe the catalogue states that there
is no sectarianism in Hilton Seminary, that the broadest
possible religious tolerance prevails here,”
she remarked, with a sweet gentleness which, under
any other circumstances, would have instantly disarmed
her companion.
But, as it happened, he was a bitter opponent of the
“false doctrine,” and the term “Science”
applied to Christianity was a rank offense to his
rigid Presbyterian opinions, as was also the fact
that a woman had dared to face the world with it!
“I do not recognize Christian Science, so-called,
as a religion,” he retorted, with a sharpness
in marked contrast to Katherine’s sweetness.
“In my opinion, it is simply a device and snare
of Satan himself to deceive the very elect; and Miss
Minturn”—this with frowning emphasis—“I
will not, for a moment, tolerate the promulgation
of its fallacious teachings in this school. I
trust I make myself understood.”
Katherine had not once removed her clear, brown eyes
from his countenance during this speech, but there
was not the slightest manifestation of resentment
on her own—only an expression of tender
regret, as if she were sorry for him, because of the
sense of discord that seemed to hold possession of
him.
“You mean that I am not to talk it here?”
she said.
“Exactly; nor flaunt it in any way.”
“I will not, sir,” with gentle gravity;
then a little smile curving her red lips, she added:
“Christian Science, Prof. Seabrook, is
a religion of Love, and I will simply try to live
it.”
The principal of Hilton flushed to his brows before
this unassuming girl, a circumstance unprecedented
in the annals of the institution.
Her look, her tone, the softly spoken words—all
radiated love, and his arrogant spirit felt the gentle
rebuke.
“Have you that book, ‘Science and Health,’
with you?” he curtly demanded.
Katherine’s heart leaped within her. Did
he mean to deprive her of her daily bread?
“Yes, sir,” with unfaltering glance and
voice.
“Then keep it out of sight,” he briefly
commanded, adding, in a tone of dismissal, as he took
up his pen: “That is all, Miss Minturn.”
Katherine bowed respectfully, then quietly followed
Jennie Wild from the room.
Katherine and her roommate.
As the two girls were passing through the main building
on their way to number fifteen, west wing, Katherine
turned to her companion and observed, in a friendly
tone:
“So this is your first year in Hilton Seminary,
Miss Wild?”
Jennie, who had been “just boiling”—as
she told her later—over the professor’s
recent crankiness and severity, turned to Katherine
in unfeigned surprise, for there was not the slightest
trace of resentment or personal affront in either her
voice or manner.
