“I feel very easy about my dear children, most of them having already arrived at years of maturity, and being comfortably settled in life; Edward and my two older daughters, at least; while the others I can leave in the safest of earthly hands, even those of my dear and honored father, whose love for them is only secondary to my own; and for each one I have reason to hope that the good part has been chosen which can never be taken away.”

“I do indeed love them very dearly,” he responded, “for their own sake, their father’s, and most of all because they are the offspring of my own beloved child.  Should I outlive her, they shall want for nothing their grandfather can do to make them happy.”

“I know it, dear father, and can leave them to your and their heavenly Father’s care without a doubt or fear,” she said, with a gentle sigh over the thought of the parting with her darlings that might be so near.

She went on to speak of some business matters, then said:  “I think that is all, papa.  I do not care to make any alteration in my will; and, as you know, you and brother Horace are my executors.  To-morrow I must have a little talk with each of my children, and then I shall be ready for Arthur and his assistants.

“I want all my children near at hand in case of an unfavorable result and that I am able to say a few last words, bidding them all farewell.”

There was again a moment of silence, her father seeming too much overcome to speak; then she went on:  “I think they must not be told to-night, that the two younger ones need know nothing of the danger till the morning of the operation.  I would spare them all the suffering of anticipation that I can; and were I but sure, quite sure, of going safely through it all, they should know nothing of it till afterward; but I cannot rob them of a few last words with their mother.”

“My darling! always unselfish, always thinking of others first!” Mr. Dinsmore said, in moved tones, bending over her and pressing his lips again and again to her pale cheek and brow.

“Surely almost any mother would think of her children before herself,” she returned with a sweet, sad smile.

But just at that instant childish footsteps were heard in the hall without, then a gentle rap on the door, and Walter’s voice asking, “Mamma, may I come in?”

“Yes, my son,” she answered, in cheerful tones, and in a moment he was at her side, asking, in some alarm and anxiety, “Mamma, dear, are you sick?” bending over her as he spoke, and pressing ardent kisses upon cheek and lip and brow.

“Not very, mother’s darling baby boy,” she answered, lifting to his eyes full of tender mother love.

“‘Baby boy?’” repeated Walter, with a merry laugh, gently smoothing her hair, and patting her cheek lovingly, while he spoke.  “Mamma, dear, have you forgotten that I am eleven years old?”

“No, dear; but for all that you are still mother’s dear, dear baby boy!” she said, hugging him close.