But she spoke with an air of command, as she asked:—­’

’What is the matter with mamma?  You will oblige me by telling the simple truth.’  Then, seeing a slight hesitation on the doctor’s part, she added—­

’I am the only child she has—­here, I mean.  My father is not sufficiently alarmed, I fear; and, therefore, if there is any serious apprehension, it must be broken to him gently.  I can do this.  I can nurse my mother.  Pray, speak, sir; to see your face, and not be able to read it, gives me a worse dread than I trust any words of yours will justify.’

’My dear young lady, your mother seems to have a most attentive and efficient servant, who is more like her friend—­’

‘I am her daughter, sir.’

’But when I tell you she expressly desired that you might not be told—­’

’I am not good or patient enough to submit to the prohibition.  Besides, I am sure you are too wise—­too experienced to have promised to keep the secret.’

‘Well,’ said he, half-smiling, though sadly enough, ’there you are right.  I did not promise.  In fact, I fear, the secret will be known soon enough without my revealing it.’

He paused.  Margaret went very white, and compressed her lips a little more.  Otherwise not a feature moved.  With the quick insight into character, without which no medical man can rise to the eminence of Dr. Donaldson, he saw that she would exact the full truth; that she would know if one iota was withheld; and that the withholding would be torture more acute than the knowledge of it.  He spoke two short sentences in a low voice, watching her all the time; for the pupils of her eyes dilated into a black horror and the whiteness of her complexion became livid.  He ceased speaking.  He waited for that look to go off,—­for her gasping breath to come.  Then she said:—­

’I thank you most truly, sir, for your confidence.  That dread has haunted me for many weeks.  It is a true, real agony.  My poor, poor mother!’ her lips began to quiver, and he let her have the relief of tears, sure of her power of self-control to check them.

A few tears—­those were all she shed, before she recollected the many questions she longed to ask.

‘Will there be much suffering?’

He shook his head.  ’That we cannot tell.  It depends on constitution; on a thousand things.  But the late discoveries of medical science have given us large power of alleviation.’

‘My father!’ said Margaret, trembling all over.

’I do not know Mr. Hale.  I mean, it is difficult to give advice.  But I should say, bear on, with the knowledge you have forced me to give you so abruptly, till the fact which I could not with-hold has become in some degree familiar to you, so that you may, without too great an effort, be able to give what comfort you can to your father.  Before then,—­my visits, which, of course, I shall repeat from time to time, although I fear I can do nothing but alleviate,—­a