_She turns to the minister._
Wasn"t it a wonderful thing to see?
CULPEPPER.
It is wonderful to see human nature so credulous. And to me, very painful.
MRS. BEELER.
To-morrow you will see how right these poor souls are to lift their trust so high.--
_To Rhoda._
Where is he now?
_Rhoda points in the direction of her own room._
How happy that young mother"s heart will be to-night!
UNCLE ABE.
_Solemnly._
Amen!
CULPEPPER.
_In a dry tone._
We will hope so.
_They move to the hall door, where Beeler resigns his wife to Rhoda. The two pa.s.s out._
_Culpepper, Littlefield, and Beeler remain. During the following conversation, Martha lights the lamp, after directing Uncle Abe, by a gesture, to take the provision basket into the kitchen. He does so._
LITTLEFIELD.
_Pointing through the window._
They"re just laying siege to you, ain"t they? I guess they won"t let your man give them the slip, this time--even though you do let him run loose.
BEELER.
_With severity._
You have seen my wife walk alone to-day, the first time in five years.
LITTLEFIELD.
I beg your pardon. I understand how you feel about it.
_Martha goes out into the kitchen._
And even if it proves to be only temporary--
BEELER.
Temporary!
LITTLEFIELD.
Permanent, let us hope. Anyway, it"s a very remarkable case.
Astonishing. I"ve only known one just like it--personally, I mean.
BEELER.
_Astounded._
Just like it?
LITTLEFIELD.
Well, pretty much. Happened in Chicago when I was an interne at St.
Luke"s.
BEELER.
Then it"s not--there"s nothing--peculiar about it?
LITTLEFIELD.
Yes, sir-ree! Mighty peculiar!
BEELER.
I mean nothing, as you might say, outside nature?
LITTLEFIELD.
O, bless you, you can"t get outside nature nowadays!
_Moves his hands in a wide circle._
Tight as a drum, no air-holes.--Devilish queer, though--pardon me, Mr.
Culpepper--really amazing, the power of the mind over the body.
CULPEPPER.