"Yes," said Bess, quietly, "I am a Christian Scientist."
I glanced at her. Her face was pink and her eyes were shining, and I saw that her hand was gripped hard on her handle-bar. I knew that it was just about the biggest moment of her life. It was the first time that she had felt worthy to stand up and say,—"Yes, I am a Christian Scientist," and I wanted to pat her on the back.
"Why?" asked Bess, after a moment.
"Oh, nothing," said Bob, "only I was surprised, because I thought you were too clearheaded to look at anybody that way."
"What way?"
"Oh, to worship any human being, and think she is supernatural, and all that, the way Christian Scientists do their leader."
Bess didn't even look cross. "Bob," she said, "who has done more than any one else in the world to help you to be what you most want to be?"
"Edison," said Bob.
"How?"
"Why, by his work, and his study, and his demonstration of what can be done, and his under-
