Poor Mary tried hard to be patient, but could not repress some screams. As soon as the surgeon had bound up the limb, the smiles broke out again over her face, though her lashes wore yet heavy with tears. "I guess you've got a cent, doctor," she said archly.
This was said in consequence of a promise he made her one day, if she would be a good girl while he dressed her leg, he would give her a cent.
The doctor laughed, and threw a penny into her lap, when many of the students followed his example.
In the afternoon the porter who brought Mary up, came for her again. Miss Alden expected him, and had her patient ready; but there was no smile on her face as she saw the child borne carefully away.
"Where is Mary going?" cried Ruth.
"She has gone to the operating-room, to have her foot and ankle taken off," answered the nurse in a faltering voice.
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry!" came from one and another of the patients.
"She'll never know it, little dear," added the nurse. "She'll take ether, and a blessed thing ether is too."
In less than an hour Mary returned, and was laid tenderly on her bed. She seemed exhausted, and had scarcely recovered her consciousness. She smiled, though, when "Darling" bent over and kissed her, and then fell quietly asleep.
It was not until the next morning, that she seemed aware of what had taken place. She gazed at her limb as if she could not understand how her foot had disappeared; then, as if suddenly realizing her loss, her voice quivered, and there was scarcely a dry eye about her, as she repeatedly inquired,—