Part 34 (1/2)

”What do you want them to do?” said John uneasily. ”Argue about it?

Besides, this morning was very exceptionally hot.”

”I don't want to be any more heathen than I have to be,” went on Desire, ”but I must be terribly heathen if what Mr. McClintock said this morning is right. He was speaking of pain, physical pain, and, he said G.o.d sent it. I always thought,” she concluded naively, ”that it came straight from the devil.”

”Healthy chap, McClintock!” said Benis lazily. ”Never had anything worse than measles and doesn't remember them.”

”What I'd like to know,” said the doctor, ”would be his opinion after several weeks of--something unpleasant. He might feel more like blaming the devil. What does he think doctors are fighting? G.o.d? By Jove, I must have this out with McClintock! I know that, for one, I never fight down pain without a glorious sense of giving Satan his licks.”

”But you did not even listen.”

”I'm listening now.”

”And no one else seemed to object to anything he said. I heard some of them call it a 'beautiful discourse' and 'so helpful.'”

Under her perplexed gaze the two Bainbridgers were clearly uncomfortable.

”It's because you don't really care what you hear from the pulpit,”

said the girl accusingly. ”You have your own beliefs and go your own ways. Another man's views, good or bad, make no difference.”

”S-s.h.i.+s.h.!.+ 'ware Aunt Caroline!” warned the professor, but Desire was too absorbed to heed.

”Why, if one actually believed half of what was said this morning,” she went on, ”the world would be a beautiful garden with half its lovely things forbidden. 'Don't touch the flowers' and 'Keep off the gra.s.s'

would be everywhere. It seems such a waste, if G.o.d made so many happy things and then doesn't like it if people are too happy.”

”Not many of us suffer from too much happiness,” muttered Benis.

”Or too much health,” echoed the doctor. ”I'd like to tell McClintock that if people would expect more health, they'd get more. The ordinary person expects ill-ness. They have a 'disease complex'--that's in your line, Benis. But just supposing they could change the idea--Eh?

Supposing everybody began to look for health--just take it, you know, as a G.o.d-intended right? I'd lose half my living in a fortnight.”

”John Rogers!” Aunt Caroline's voice fell with the effect of sizzling hailstones upon the fire of John's enthusiasm. ”If you must talk heresy, there are other places beside my garden to do it in.”

”I was merely saying--”

”I heard what you were saying. And although it takes a great deal to surprise me, I am surprised. Such doctrines I consider most dangerous, highly so. If you are thinking of setting up as a faith healer, the sooner we know it the better. Desire, my dear, you might see Olive about tea. Tell her not to forget the lemon. I do not know what I have done to deserve a maid called Olive,” she sighed, ”but the only alternative was Gladys. And Gladys I could not endure. As for illness, I am surprised at you, John Rogers. I was not in church owing to a severe headache, but I know the sermon. It is one of Mr. McClintock's very best. If you had not gone to sleep in the middle of the first point you would have heard the mystery of pain beautifully explained. A wonderful preacher. If he wouldn't click his teeth.”

The professor shuddered.

”Benis acts so foolishly about it,” went on Aunt Caroline. ”He insists that the clicking makes him ill. But why should it? At the same time, if one of the Elders were to suggest, tactfully, to Mr. McClintock that he have the upper set tightened it might be well. It would at least”

(with grimness) ”do away with the trivial excuses of some people for not attending Divine service.”

Her graceless nephew was understood to murmur something about ”too hot to fight.”

”As for Mr. McClintock's ideas,” pursued Aunt Caroline, ”they are quite beautiful. The first time he gave the deathbed description which comprises part of this morning's discourse he had us all in tears. I mean all of us who were sufficiently awake to realize the fact that it was a deathbed. His description of the last agony has clearly lost nothing in poignancy, for Desire came home quite pale. I wonder if you have noticed, Benis, that Desire is looking somewhat less robust?

Doctor, now that she is not here--”

”Now that she is not here, we will not discuss her,” said Spence firmly.