hing for it but removal.
It was what Dr. Grant called "a very beautiful operation, indeed," and
now she was recovering her strength, but only slowly, so slowly that
Thomas at times found his heart sink with a vague fear. But it was not
the pain of the wound that had wrought that sweet, pathetic look into
the little woman's face, but the deeper pain she carried in her heart
for those she loved better than herself.

The mother's sickness brought many changes into the household, but the
most striking of all the changes was that wrought in the slow and
stolid Thomas. The father and Billy Jack were busy with the farm matters
outside, upon little Jessac, now a girl of twelve years, fell the care
of the house, but it was Thomas that, with the assistance of a neighbor
at first, but afterwards alone, waited on his mother, dressing the wound
and nursing her. These weeks of watching and nursing had wrought in him
the subtle change that stirred Mrs. Murray's heart as she looked at him
that day, and that made even Hughie wonder. For one thing his tongue
was loosed, and Thomas talked to his mother of all that he had seen and
heard on the way to the Cameron's and back, making much of his little
visit to the manse, and of Mrs. Murray's kindness, and enlarging upon
her promised visit, and all with such brightness and picturesqueness
of speech that Hughie listened amazed. For all the years he had known
Thomas he had never heard from his lips so many words as in the last few
minutes of talk with his mother. Then, too, Thomas seemed to have found
his fingers, for no woman could have arranged more deftly and with
gentler touch the cushions at his mother's back, and no nurse could have
measured out the medicine and prepared her egg-nog with greater skill.
Hughie could hardly believe his eyes and ears. Was this Thomas the
stolid, the clumsy, the heavy-handed, this big fellow with the quick
tongue and the clever, gentle hand?

Meantime Jessac had set upon the table a large pitcher of rich milk,
with oat cakes and butter, and honey in the comb.

"Now, Hughie, lad, draw in and help yourself. You and Thomas will be
too hungry to wait for supper," said the mother. And Hughie, protesting
politely that he was not very hungry, proceeded to establish the
contrary, to the great satisfaction of himself and the others.

"Now, Thomas," said the mother, "we had better cut the seed."

"Indeed, and not a seed will you cut, mother," said Thomas,
emphatic