“Then her life is in danger?” said Dr. Angier.

“It is assuredly, and nothing but a successful operation can save her.”

“What does Doctor Kline think of the case?”

“He agrees with me as to the character of the tumor, but thinks it larger than an orange, deeply cast among the great blood-vessels, and probably so attached to their sheaths as to make its extirpation not only difficult, but dangerous.”

“Will he assist you in the operation?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Hillhouse became thoughtful and silent.  His countenance wore a serious, almost troubled aspect.

“Never before,” he said, after a long pause, “have I looked forward to an operation with such a feeling of concern as I look forward to this.  Three or four months ago, when there was only a little sack there, it could have been removed without risk.  But I greatly fear that in its rapid growth it has become largely attached to the blood-vessels and the sheaths of nerves, and you know how difficult this will make the operation, and that the risk will be largely increased.  The fact is, doctor, I am free to say that it would be more agreeable to me if some other surgeon had the responsibility of this case.”

“Dr. Kline would, no doubt, be very ready to take it off of your hands.”

“If the family were satisfied, I would cheerfully delegate the work to him,” said Doctor Hillhouse.

“He’s a younger man, and his recent brilliant operations have brought him quite prominently before, the public.”

As he spoke Doctor Hillhouse, who was past sixty-five and beginning to feel the effects of over forty years of earnest professional labor, lifted his small hand, the texture of which, was as fine as that of a woman’s, and holding it up, looked at it steadily for some moments.  It trembled just a little.

“Not quite so firm as it was twenty years ago,” he remarked, with a slight depression in his voice.

“But the sight is clearer and the skill greater,” said Doctor Angier.

“I don’t know about the sight.” returned Doctor Hillhouse.  “I’m afraid that is no truer than the hand.”

“The inner sight, I mean, the perception that comes from long-applied skill,” said Doctor Angier.  “That is something in which you have the advantage of younger men.”

Doctor Hillhouse made no reply to this, but sat like one in deep and, perplexed thought for a considerable time.

“I must see Doctor Kline and go over the case with him more carefully,” he remarked at length.  “I shall then be able to see with more clearness what is best.  The fact that I feel so averse to operating myself comes almost as a warning; and if no change should occur in my feelings, I shall, with the consent of the family, transfer the knife to Doctor Kline.”

CHAPTER XVI.

Mrs. Carlton was a favorite in the circle where she moved; and when it became known that she would have to submit to a serious operation in order to save her life, she became an object of painful interest to her many friends.  Among the most intimate of these was Mrs. Birtwell, who, as the time approached for the great trial, saw her almost every day.