"Is it a bad case, do you think?" her mother asked. "What is the poor child's name?"
"Jessie Butler, and she comes from some back block behind Wylmington. The only chance of saving her life was to bring her right away to the doctor, so Mr. Chance saw to her removal, but the doctor thinks badly of her. It's some injury to her spine, and he must operate to-night."
Jack had laid down his knife and fork, and was listening with bated breath.
"He's so clever, p'raps he'll conquer," he said.
Mr. Treherne turned with a little smile at the quaint phrase.
"Who told you Dr. Wilson was clever?" he asked.
"Uncle Tom," said Jack flushing a little; the talk which had led up to the remark he kept to himself, but of the doctor's victory over pain he felt fairly confident, although facts seemed against him. After supper Betty ran down to Mrs. Kenyon's to ask for the latest news, but Clarissa could only tell her that her brother had looked in for a few minutes to snatch a meal, but had gone again to his patient who it was feared would not live throughout the night. It was not until daylight that he crept home to get a few hours' rest before his Sunday work. Jessie had dropped asleep, and seemed a little easier. Jack came as usual to walk with him to church.
"There must be no bell-ringing to-day, Jack," said Uncle Tom. "There is Jessie Butler, the girl I brought here yesterday, lying very ill just opposite the church, and we must make no unnecessary noise."
"Oh!" said Jack, drawing a deep breath of disappointment.
"I'm sure you would not wish to wake her out of sleep, would you?" said Tom kindly, "but there is something we can all do for her to-day which may be of real help to her."