ks shrugged his shoulders, uttering no word by way of
reply.

'I should not like Milly to slip from us,' continued the nurse.

'Nor should I. We'll keep her if we can, and if she'll only help
us with a good heart we may possibly manage to pull her through.'

And with a mirthless laugh the doctor turned on his heel,
removing, when unobserved, his spectacles and wiping the moisture
from them and from his eyes.

From the day that Milly entered the great infirmary, the charm of
her childhood laid its spell upon all who came near her. Not only
was the gloomy ward brighter for her presence, but patients and
nurses were infected with her strange personality and undefinable
influence. Even the doctors lingered a moment longer at her
bedside, looking pensively into the light of those eyes whose
fires had been kindled under sunny skies, and at the beauty of
that face, kissed into loveliness by the wandering winds that
played around Rehoboth heights.

At last the morning of the operation came, and Milly was wheeled
into the theatre, where a crew of noisy students were joking and
indulging in the frolics which, from time immemorial, have been
the privilege of their order. As soon, however, as they caught
sight of the child every voice was hushed, and quietness
prevailed, for not a few already knew something of her winsomeness
and beauty. As she was placed on the operating-table the sunlight
fell through the lanthorn, and lighted up the golden clusters of
her hair, the welcome rays calling forth from her now pale
features a responsive smile. In another minute she lay peaceful
and motionless under the anaesthetic--a statue, immobile, yet
expressionful, as though carved by some master hand.

A burly-looking surgeon, with the sleeves of his operating coat
neatly turned up, approached the table on which Milly was
stretched, and in a business-like manner set about his task.
Carefully handling one of his cold and glittering instruments, he
paused; then bending himself over the patient, appeared as though
about to make the first incision, yet hesitated.

'What is the matter with old Rogers?' asked the students, under
their breath; and one or two of the doctors looked knowingly at
each other.

There was nothing the matter, however, with old Rogers for long.
He merely muttered something about it being a shame to cut into
such flesh as Milly's, and proceeded to go calmly through his
work, like the old hand that he was.

The oper