The Sins of the Father Part 29

"It's bothering you this morning?"

She lifted the delicately shaped head and touched her neck:

"Not much pain, but a sense of fullness. I feel as if I'm going to choke sometimes."

He rose abruptly, a great fear in his heart:

"We'll go back to town at once. The doctor should arrive at three from New York."

"Let's not hurry," she cried smiling. "I'm happy now. You're my old sweetheart again and I'm on a new honeymoon----"

He gazed at the white slender throat. She was looking unusually well. He wondered if this were a trick of the enemy to throw him off his guard. He wondered what was happening in those tiny cells behind the smooth round lines of the beautiful neck. It made him sick and faint to think of the possibility of another attack--just when the fight was over--just when she had begun to smile and find life sweet again! His soul rose in fierce rebellion. It was too horrible for belief. He simply wouldn't believe it!

"All right!" he exclaimed with decision. "We'll stay here till two o'clock, anyhow. We can drive back in three hours. The train will be late--it always is."

Through the long hours of a wonderful spring morning they basked in the sun side by side on a bed of leaves he piled in a sheltered spot on the mountain side. They were boy and girl again. The shadows had lifted and the world was radiant with new glory. They talked of the future and the life of perfect mutual faith and love that should be theirs.

And each moment closer came the soft footfall of an unseen angel.

CHAPTER XVII

THE OPAL GATES

The doctor was waiting at the hotel, his keen eyes very serious. He had guessed the sinister meaning of the summons. He was an unusually brusque man--almost rude in his words. He greeted Norton with friendly sympathy and smiled at the radiant face of the wife.

"Well, little mother," he said with grave humor, "we have more trouble. But you're brave and patient. It's a joy to work for you."

"And now," she responded gayly, "you've got to finish this thing, doctor. I don't want any more half-way operations. I'm going to get well this time.

I'm happy and I'm going to be strong again."

"Good, we'll get at it right away. I knew you'd feel that way and so I brought with me a great surgeon, the most skillful man I know in New York.

I've told him of your case, a very unusual one, and he is going to help me."

The little mouth smiled bravely:

"I'll be ready for the examination in half an hour----"

When the doctors emerged from her room the sun had set behind the dark blue hills and Norton was waiting on the balcony for their report.

The specialist walked slowly to where he was standing. He couldn't move from his tracks. His throat was dry and he had somehow lost the power of speech. He looked into the face of the man of science, read the story of tragedy and a mist closed his eyes.

The doctor took his arm gently:

"I've bad news for you----"

"Yes, I know," was the low answer.

"The truth is best----"

"I want to know it."

"She can't live!"

The tall figure stiffened, there was a moment of silence and when he spoke his words fell slowly with measured intensity:

"There's not a single chance, doctor?"

"Not worth your cherishing. You'd as well know this now and be prepared. We opened and drained the old wound, and both agreed that it is too late for an operation. The flesh that guards the wall of the great vein is a mere shred. She would die under the operation. I can't undertake it."

"And it will not heal again?"

The doctor was silent for a long while and his eyes wandered to the darkening sky where the stars were coming out one by one:

"Who knows but G.o.d? And who am I to set bounds to his power?"

"Then there may be a slender chance?" he asked eagerly.

"To the eye of Science--no--yet while life lingers we always hope. But I wouldn't advise you to leave her side for the next ten days. The end, if it comes, will be very sudden, and it will be too late for speech."

A groan interrupted his words and Norton leaned heavily against the balcony rail. The doctor's voice was full of feeling as he continued:

"If you have anything to say to her you'd better say it quickly to be sure that it does not remain unsaid."

"Thank you----"

"I have told her nothing more can be done now until the wound from this draining heals--that when it does she can come to New York for a final decision on the operation."

"I understand."

"We leave to-night on the midnight express----"

"You can do nothing more?"

"Nothing."

A warm pressure of the hand in the gathering twilight and he was gone. The dazed man looked toward the fading sky-line of the southwest at Mt.

Pisgah's towering black form pushing his way into the track of the stars and a feeling of loneliness crushed his soul.

He turned abruptly, braced himself for the ordeal and hurried to her room.

She was unusually bright and cheerful.

"Why, it didn't hurt a bit, dear!" she exclaimed joyfully. "It was nothing.

And when it heals you're to take me to New York for the operation----"

He took her hot hand and kissed it through blinding tears which he tried in vain to fight back.