trust which springs up instantaneously between any honest doctor and
sensible nurse made them friends in five minutes.

Mrs. Grey's fears had been only too true. Many weeks of illness and of
anxious nursing lay before her and her poor boy. After all had been
done that could be done, Dr. Grey was recalled, and the facts explained
to him; though Dr. Anstruther, who seemed to understand him well,
dwelt as lightly upon them as possible, consistent with that strict truth
which was always spoken by the good doctor. Still, it was enough.

When Dr. Anstruther was gone, Dr. Grey caine and stood by the sofa,
in great distress.

"An illness of weeks--delicate for months--and perhaps weakly for life.
Oh, my poor boy!"

"Hush!" said Christian; "the child might hear. Go, and sit down for a
minute, and I will come to you."

She came, and, leaning over him, laid her hand tenderly on her
husband's shoulder. She could do no more, even though he was her
husband. She felt helpless to comfort him, for the key which unlocks
all consolation was in her heart not yet found. Only there came over
her, with a solemn presentiment which had its sweetness still, the
conviction that whatever happiness her lot might have missed, its duties
were very plain, very sure. All her life she would have, more or less, to
take care of, not only these her children, but their father.

She stood beside him, holding his shaking hands between her two firm
ones, till she heard Arthur call faintly.