"I cannot!" cried Vesta Dale, wringing her hands and weeping. "I
cannot leave you, Rejoice. You know I cannot leave you."

Both women felt for the first time, with a pang unspeakable, the
burden of restraint. The strong woman wrung her hands again, and
moaned like a dumb creature in pain; the helpless body of the cripple
quivered and shrank away from itself, but the soul within was firm.

"You must go," said Miss Rejoice, quietly. "Neither of us could bear
it if you stayed. If I know you are searching, I can be patient; and I
shall have help."

"Amanda Loomis could come," said Miss Vesta, misunderstanding her.

"Yes," said Rejoice, with a faint smile; "Amanda can come, and I shall
do very well indeed till you come back with the child. Go at once,
Vesta; don't lose a moment. Put on your bonnet and shawl, and Doctor
will drive you over to the Corners. The stage goes by in an hour's
time, and you have none too long to reach it."

Dr. Brown seemed to wake suddenly from the distressful dream in which
he had been plunged. "Yes, I will drive you over to the stage, Vesta,"
he said. "God help me! it is all I can do. I have an operation to
perform at noon. It is a case of life and death, and I have no right
to leave it. The man's whole life is not worth one hour of Melody's,"
he added with some bitterness; "but that makes no difference, I
suppose. I have no choice in the matter. Girls!" he cried, "you know
well enough that if it were my own life, I would throw it down the
well to give the child an hour's pleasure, let alone saving her from
misery,--and perhaps from death!" he added to himself; for only he and