“Did you hear what Dr. Dudley said?”
“A little,” he answered.
“Oh, sweetheart, he thinks you have such a good chance! He advises an operation right away.”
The word sent instant terror to the brave little heart. This had not been included in his wonderful bill of items.
“I am sure your mother will consent,” Dorothy went on, “everything looks so favorable. Giles is going up to Foxford for her and Blue as soon as he has taken us home, and they will stay all night. Your mother can see the Doctor this evening, and arrange things with him. Dearest! won’t it be beautiful if you can walk?” She squeezed the little form ever so lightly.
“Beautiful!” was the soft echo—out of a trembling heart. Operation! What were they planning to do to him? He had heard of operations—oh, yes, he had heard of little else while his mother was sick! Everybody in The Flatiron talked about them then. Why, Mrs. Corrigan said—it was too horrible to think of! The boy tried to put it away, but it would come back!
Mr. Gaylord had slight trouble in persuading Mrs. Stickney to permit Doodles to go to the hospital. Had she not recently passed through a successful operation herself? The probable chance of his being able to walk was worth a little risk. When she saw Dr. Dudley she was ready to agree to his wishes without an objection. The voice of Doodles was not asked for, and the little lad kept silent.
Blue, with his keen perception, guessed something of his brother’s fears.
“Don’t you be worryin’ about the operation, old feller! They’ll give you something so you won’t feel it a bit!”
Give him something! The words were a knife! Doodles scarcely heard the rest of what Blue was saying.