feasible--purely from the voluntary contributions of those who come here
and have money--free as the air to the poor who are sick--free to _all_,
for that matter--no one asked to give--but the poorest would gladly lay
down their mites."

"Yes--oh, yes!" cried Mrs. Thornton raptly.

"Yes," admitted Mr. Thornton thoughtfully; "that might be done."

"There is no doubt of it," asserted Madison enthusiastically. "It needs
but the initiative on the part of some one, on our part, and the rest
will take care of itself. But we must, of course, have the endorsement
of the Patriarch--why not go to the cottage now, at once, and talk it
over?"

"Can we see _him_?" asked Mrs. Thornton wistfully. "Oh, I would like to
kneel at his feet and pour out my gratitude. But see how all these
people go no nearer than that row of trees, as though love or fear or
reverence kept them from going further, as though it were almost
forbidden, holy ground, as though they were held back by an invisible
barrier in spite of themselves."

"True," said Madison; "and I sense that very thing myself--all men must
sense it after what has taken place, all must feel the presence of a
power too majestic, too full of awe for the mind to grasp. This
faith"--he threw out his hands in an impotent gesture--"we can only
accept it unquestioningly, as a mighty thing, an actual, living,
existent thing, even if we cannot fully understand. But I feel that with
what we have in mind we have a right to go there now--and we should take
that little lad who was cured as well--and his parents, they should come