The great surgeon, Dr.Herslett, will be here at eleven o'clock, and on the success of the operation he will perform, hangs the thread of your husband's life." Lady Mary put up a little trembling hand entreatingly, and John's great heart throbbed with pity.

He had chosen his words deliberately to startle her from her absorption in her son; but she looked so fragile, so white, so imploring, that his courage almost failed him.
He came to her side, and took the little hand reassuringly in his strong, warm clasp.
"Be brave, my dear," he said, with faltering voice, "and put aside, if you can, the thought of your bitter, terrible disappointment.

Only _you_ can cheer, and inspire, and aid your husband to maintain the calmness of spirit which is of such vital importance to his chance of recovery.

You can't leave him against his wish at such a moment; not if you are the--the angel I believe you to be," said John, with emotion.
There was a pause, and though he looked away from her, he knew that she was crying.
John released the little hand gently, and walked to the fireplace to give her time to recover herself.

Perhaps his eye-glasses were dimmed; he polished them very carefully.
Lady Mary dashed away her tears, and spoke in a hard voice he scarcely recognized as hers.
"I might be all--you think me, John," she said, "if--" "Ah! don't let there be an _if_," said John.
"But--" "Or a _but_." "It is that you don't understand the situation," she said; "you talk as though Sir Timothy and I were an ordinary husband and wife, entirely dependent on one another's love and sympathy.