their pains and sickness returned, there were a few who bore perfect
evidence to his teaching and healing, and followed him, "converted and
consecrated," as though he were a new Messiah. In this corner of the
West was such a revival as none could remember--not even those who had
been to camp meetings in the East in their youth, and had seen the Spirit
descend upon hundreds and draw them to the anxious seat.

Then came the great sensation--the Faith Healer converted Laura Sloly.
Upon which Jansen drew its breath painfully; for, while it was willing
to bend to the inspiration of the moment, and to be swept on a tide of
excitement into that enchanted field called Imagination, it wanted to
preserve its institutions--and Laura Sloly had come to be an institution.
Jansen had always plumed itself, and smiled, when she passed; and even
now the most sentimentally religious of them inwardly anticipated the
time when the town would return to its normal condition; and that
condition would not be normal if there were any change in Laura Sloly.
It mattered little whether most people were changed or not because one
state of their minds could not be less or more interesting than another;
but a change in Laura. Sloly could not be for the better.

Her father had come to the West in the early days, and had prospered by
degrees until a town grew up beside his ranch; and though he did not
acquire as much permanent wealth from this golden chance as might have
been expected, and lost much he did make by speculation, still he had his
rich ranch left, and it, and he, and Laura were part of the history of
Jansen. Laura had been born at Jansen before even it had a name. Next
to her father she was the oldest inhabitant, and she had a prestige which
was given to no one else.

Everything had conspired to make her a figure of moment and interest.