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“Where–in what place will the lady speak–I mean, will it be in the church?” ventured Miss Philura in a depressed whisper. She sighed apprehensively as she glanced down at the tips of her shabby gloves.

“The lecture will take place in the drawing-room of the Woman’s Ontological Club,” responded Mrs. Van Deuser, adding with austere sweetness of tone: “The club deals exclusively with those conceptions or principles which lie at the base of all phenomena; including being, reality, substance, time, space, motion, change, identity, difference, and cause–in a word, my dear Philura, with ultimate metaphysical philosophy.” A majestic and conclusive sweep of a perfectly gloved hand suggested infinity and reduced Miss Philura into shrinking silence.

* * * * *

When Mrs. B. Isabelle Smart began to speak she became almost directly aware of a small, wistful face, with faded blue eyes and a shabby, unbecoming bonnet, which, surrounded as it was on all sides by tossing plumes, rich velvets and sparkling gems, with their accompaniments of full-fleshed, patrician countenances, took to itself a look of positive distinction. Mrs. Smart’s theme, as announced by the President of the Ontological Club, was Thought Forces and the Infinite, a somewhat formidable-sounding subject, but one which the pale, slight, plainly dressed but singularly bright-eyed lady, put forward as the speaker of the afternoon, showed no hesitancy in attacking.

Before three minutes had passed Miss Philura Rice had forgotten that such things as shabby gloves, ill-fitting gowns, unbecoming bonnets and superfluous birthdays existed. In ten minutes more she was leaning forward in breathless attention, the faded eyes aglow, the unbecoming bonnet pushed back from a face more wistful than ever, but flushed with a joyful excitement.

* * * * *

“This unseen Good hems us about on every side,” the speaker was saying, with a comprehensive sweep of her capable-looking hands. “It presses upon us, more limitless, more inexhaustible, more free than the air that we breathe! Out of it every need, every want, every yearning of humanity can be, must be, supplied. To you, who have hitherto led starved lives, hungering, longing for the good things which you believe a distant and indifferent God has denied you–to you I declare that in this encircling, ever-present, invisible, exhaustless Beneficence is already provided a lavish abundance of everything which you can possibly want or think! Nay, desire itself is but God–Good–Love, knocking at the door of your consciousness. It is impossible for you to desire anything that is not already your own! It only remains for you to bring the invisible into visibility–to take of the everlasting substance what you will!

“And how must you do this? Ask, and believe that you have! You have asked many times, perhaps, and have failed to receive. Why? You have failed to believe. Ask, then, for what you will! Ask, and at once return thanks for what you have asked! In the asking and believing is the thing itself made manifest. Declare that it is yours! Expect it! Believe it! Hold to it without wavering–no matter how empty your hands may seem! It is yours, and God’s infinite creation shall lapse into nothingness; His stars shall fall from high Heaven like withered leaves sooner than that you shall fail to obtain all that you have asked!”

When, at the close of the lecture, Mrs. B. Isabelle Smart became the center of a polite yet insistent crush of satins, velvets and broadcloths, permeated by an aroma of violets and a gentle hum of delicate flattery, she was aware of a timid hand upon her arm, and turned to look into the small, eager face under the unfashionable bonnet.