“Yes, my child,” he said in a kindly tone, “I have done so as a rule, and should in this instance, but that I was much hurried for time.  That will sometimes happen, and you and all my children must always obey me promptly, whether you can or cannot at the moment see the reasonableness of the order given.  Is your estimation of your father’s wisdom and his love for you so low that you cannot trust him thus far?”

“O papa, forgive me!” she exclaimed, putting her arms about his neck and laying her cheek to his.  “I do hope I’ll never, never again hesitate one minute to obey any order from you; because I know you love me, and that you are very wise and would never bid me do anything but what I ought.”

“Certainly never intentionally, daughter; and surely your father, who is so many years older than yourself, should be esteemed by you as somewhat wiser.”

“O papa, I know you are a great, great deal wiser than I,” she said earnestly.  “How ridiculous it seems to think of anybody comparing my wisdom with yours!  I know I’m only a silly little girl, and not a good one either, and it would be a sad thing to have a father no wiser or better than myself.”

CHAPTER XIII.

The morning of that critical day found Grandma Elsie as calm and cheerful as she had been the previous evening, though every other face among the older members of the family showed agitation and anxiety.  Her daughters, Elsie and Violet, were with her almost constantly during the early hours, doing everything in their power to show their devoted affection and make all things ready for the surgeons and their assistants; her father and his wife also giving their aid and loving sympathy, while Edward and Zoe attended to necessary arrangements elsewhere, occasionally snatching a moment to stand beside the dear sufferer and speak words of love and hope.

Rosie and Walter were allowed one short interview in which they were clasped in her arms and a few loving, tender words spoken that both she and they felt might be the last.

Captain Raymond came a little earlier than the doctor.  Lester was already there, and each young wife found the presence of her husband a comfort and support while, in an adjoining room, they waited in almost agonizing suspense to hear that the operation was over and what was the result.

They were a silent group, every heart going up in strong crying to God, that, if consistent with his holy will, the dear mother might be spared to them.

And the united petition was granted; Mrs. Dinsmore presently came to them, her face radiant with joy and hope.  “It is over,” she said; “successfully over, and the doctors say that with the good nursing she is sure to have she will soon be restored to perfect health.”

The communication was received with tears of joy and thankfulness.

“It will be strange indeed if she lacks anything the most devoted nurses can do for her,” remarked Mr. Leland.