necessary to sacrifice the child. I can't be sure. The Caesarian
operation is something I never care to think about. It is rarely used,
and it isn't always successful. Every care that can be taken will be
taken. I should like to have you understand the conditions. Your consent
will be asked before any serious steps are taken. Your decision will
have to be quick, however, when the time comes."

"I can tell you now, doctor, what my decision will be," said Eugene
realizing fully the gravity of the situation. For the time being, his
old force and dignity were restored. "Save her life if you can by any
means that you can. I have no other wish."

"Thanks," said the surgeon. "We will do the best we can."

There were hours after that when Eugene, sitting by Angela, saw her
endure pain which he never dreamed it was possible for any human being
to endure. He saw her draw herself up rigid time and again, the color
leaving her face, the perspiration breaking out on her forehead only to
relax and flush and groan without really crying out. He saw, strange to
relate, that she was no baby like himself, whimpering over every little
ill, but a representative of some great creative force which gave her
power at once to suffer greatly and to endure greatly. She could not
smile any more. That was not possible. She was in a welter of suffering,
unbroken, astonishing. Myrtle had gone home to her dinner, but promised
to return later. Miss De Sale came, bringing another nurse, and while
Eugene was out of the room, Angela was prepared for the final ordeal.
She was arrayed in the usual open back hospital slip and white linen
leggings. Under Doctor Lambert's orders an operating table was got ready
in the operating room on the top floor and a wheel table stationed
outside the door, ready to remove her if necessary. He had left word
that at the first evidence of the genuine childbearing pain, which the
nurse understood so well, he was to be called. The house surgeon was to
be in immediate charge of the case.

Eugene wondered in this final hour at the mechanical, practical,
business-like manner in which all these tragedies--the hospital was full
of women--were taken. Miss De Sale went about her duties calm, smiling,
changing the pillows occasionally for Angela, straightening the
disordered bedclothes, adjusting the window curtains, fixing her own
lace cap or apron before the mirror which was attached to the dresser,
or before the one that was se