horsehair-seated chairs and a sofa. In the exact centre of this sofa,
reading by the light of a lamp with a pink shade which was placed on a
table behind her, sat a prim grey-haired woman dressed in a black silk
dress and apron and a lace cap with lappets. I noticed at once that the
right lappet was larger than the left. Evidently it had been made so
with the design of hiding a patch of affected skin below the ear, which
looked to me as though it had been caused by the malady called lupus.
I noticed further that the little woman was reading an anti-vaccination
tract with a fearful picture of a diseased arm upon its cover.

"Martha," said Mr. Strong, "Dr. Therne, whom they're trying at the court
yonder, has come in for supper. Dr. Therne, that's my wife."

Mrs. Strong rose and offered her hand. She was a thin person, with
rather refined features, a weak mouth, and kindly blue eyes.

"I'm sure you are welcome," she said in a small monotonous voice. "Any
of Stephen's friends are welcome, and more especially those of them who
are suffering persecution for the Right."

"That is not exactly my case, madam," I answered, "for if I had done
what they accuse me of I should deserve hanging, but I did not do it."

"I believe you, doctor," she said, "for you have true eyes. Also Stephen
says so. But in any case the death of the dear young woman was God's
will, and if it was God's will, how can you be responsible?"

While I was wondering what answer I should make to this strange doctrine
a servant girl announced that supper was ready, and we went into the
next room to partake of a meal, plain indeed, but of most excellent