"The help of my church, of their combined prayers. Alone, I can do nothing. I must ask them all to help me, if my baby boy is to be saved from the consequences of his father's doubts." "Katharine!" But, with a flutter of her skirts, she had vanished from the room, smiling and self-reliant and very, very smug. To her belief, she had borne down the ignorant oppression of the unbeliever; she had given testimony to her indomitable confidence in her new creed; she was about to give still stronger testimony to the indomitable healing power of that same creed. And Brenton, left alone, shut his teeth hard upon the ugly words that struggled to his lips. Then, white and wan, less from his all-night vigil than from the five-minute altercation with his wife, he turned away and re-entered the room where the child was lying. It needed no eye skilled in watching the advance of death to be aware that the little life was ebbing fast. The look of waxiness had been increasing, all night long; the breathing was becoming fitful; the tiny figure seemed relaxed in every weakening limb. The eyes, though heavy and lustreless, were wide, wide open, and the white little lips wavered into a ghost of a smile, as Brenton crossed the threshold. Then one little hand stirred ever so slightly, strove to lift itself in greeting, failed. "Daddy's boy!" Brenton said, as bravely as he could. The ghost of the smile grew a bit stronger, as Brenton sat down beside the crib and, after his custom of these later days, held out one brown forefinger. Instantly, the wan little claw closed around the finger, the baby nestled slightly, and then fell into a light doze. The nurse's voice, when she spoke, failed to penetrate the doze. "I called up Doctor Keltridge, and he said he had a broken hip to set at once. It may be two hours, before he can get here. He told me to keep up the stimulant." "You have used it?" "Once, while you were talking to Mrs. Brenton. It is nearly time, again." "Did it----" Brenton's voice failed him utterly. The nurse hedged. "It is too soon yet to know. The second dose ought to show more." But the second dose did not show, nor yet the third. After the fourth one, the nurse looked up. "Can you telephone to Mrs. Brenton?" she asked. "You think?" "That she should be here. Can you get her?" And then Brenton was forced to confess the truth. The nurse accepted the truth as mercifully as she was able. "Poor little woman!" she said. "Isn't it wonderful the hold the thing gets--" Her question was never ended. Instead, she laid her hand on Brenton's sleeve. "Look!" she whispered. All at once, the doze had ended. With its ending, all look of tiredness and suffering had gone away out of the baby face. Instead, the little eyes were eager; the little lips were breaking into a smile of utter joyousness; the little arms were up-stretched strongly, the hands wide open and shaking in happy recognition.