But this mysterious love that carried her soul so far above merely earthly things, opened possibilities, nay certainties, of higher mysteries. She could no longer accept the cold ethical schemes in which she had been educated. She thought the reasonings must be fallacious that were so opposed to these divine supersensual instincts. Taught by nature herself, she worshipped in her way the unknown God, whose sole revelation to her was love. At first she would listen with sad wonder to the little prayers that Mrs. White's eldest children would lisp at their mother's knee, in which they invoked their God's blessing on their mother, Aunty Mary, all their kind friends, and even their pet animals. It was very beautiful and sweet to have this belief she thought. She fell into a way of _wishing_ a sort of prayer of her own, when she got into bed at night. At last she would even kneel down by the bedside, as she had seen the children do, and pray earnestly in a more definite manner. It was the crying out of a soul in darkness, a prayer true as was that of the publican in the parable. It was a prayer to the unknown God somewhat in this wise: "O God! if there be a God, O God of Love! God of the Christians! if, indeed, thou art; I love Thee. I do not pray for myself, except that I may die. But oh, bless all my dear friends, and especially Mrs. King, my mother; make her happy in knowing Thee; and make Harry happy, make him not miss me much, and not be very sorry when I am gone, but give him a true good wife. And, O God, let me die soon, else I shall be the curse of him I love, and ruin his happiness. Take me away from him and let me die." * * * * * As Mary's cure was no longer a question for medical science, but depended solely upon the cheerfulness of her surroundings and such like natural remedies, Dr. Duncan had not considered it necessary, so far, to visit his sister's cottage. He was afraid, too, lest his presence might distress the girl, and decided not to see her until her convalescence was at a more advanced stage. He also hinted to Mrs. King that it would be well if she too abstained from seeing her niece for the present. Mrs. White kept her brother fully informed by letter of the progress of the patient. Of late these letters had not been quite so hopeful as they were at first. She told him that the convalescence which at first had been so rapid, had reached its limit; that Mary's health was no longer improving, but seemed to her to be even retrograding. At last she wrote him a long letter in which she expressed her great anxiety about the girl. She begged him to come down himself, and also to send down Mrs. King, as it was possible that the woman's presence would be of benefit to Mary. "At any rate," she wrote, "send her down for a couple of days, the experiment is worth trying."