“Oh, I think Sunday is a bore, as a rule,” she observed, with another shrug. “I’m always lonesome if I don’t go to church, and, if I do, I never know ’where I am at’—as the Irishman put it— after listening to a long sermon. That was a queer idea, though, in the lesson to-day, about there being only one Mind in the universe. Where do you get your authority for that, Miss Minturn?”
“There is but one God, who is Spirit or Mind, and He is omnipresent,” Katherine explained.
“What are you going to do with us, then? I mean your mind and mine?”
“This mortal mind is only a counterfeit—”
“A counterfeit of what?”
“Of the One Mind, or the divine intelligence. The same as gas and electric light are counterfeits of real light from the sun, or the one source of light; but, oh, dear! I am talking Science, Jennie, and Prof. Seabrook said I must not,” said Katherine, cutting herself short.
“The idea of trying to bridle anyone’s tongue, in any such way, in this free country!” cried Jennie, aggressively. “But that lady read from the Bible that there is ’nothing covered that shall not be revealed, neither hid that shall not be made known’; then the man read something about it being a law of God for truth to uncover error. Do you believe that, Miss Minturn?”
“Do you Scientists really know how to find out anything that is hidden or—or secret?” eagerly inquired the girl.
“I think I don’t quite catch your meaning, Jennie.”
“I’ll tell you why I asked you that,” she replied, an intense look in her dark eyes, her cheeks flushing crimson. “Perhaps you have heard something about me—that—that I am a kind of waif?”
“Yes, I have, dear,” Katherine admitted.
“Well, it is true, and I’ll tell you all about it,” was the confidential rejoinder. “My aunt—she taught me to call her so, though she isn’t related to me in any way—was traveling from Kansas City to Chicago, about sixteen years ago, and there was a terrible accident. Auntie was in a rear car and wasn’t hurt in the least, but the first and second sleepers were completely wrecked. A good many people were killed, and others so badly injured they didn’t live long. As soon as auntie could pull herself together she went out to see if she could help anybody, and she found me, a little tot only a year old, screaming in the gutter beside the track. She took me back into her car and looked me over, to see if I was injured; but, aside from a few bruises and scratches, I appeared to be all right, and, after a while, she quieted and soothed me to sleep. Then she went out again to try to learn to whom I belonged; but she could not get the slightest clew, and everyone said the person or persons I was with must have been among the killed. She advertised, and the railroad officials made every effort to find my friends for a long time; but nothing ever came of it. Auntie began to grow fond of me, and said she would never let me go until she had to give me up to my own folks. Of course, they have never been found, and so I grew up with her.”