"Most assuredly," earnestly returned the physician; but an involuntary, though quickly repressed, sigh escaped him as he said it.
Prof. Seabrook's keen ear detected it and a spasm of fear clutched his heart. But he would not voice it; he shrank from having it corroborated.
"There is one thing more which could be done, which might, perhaps, result in giving Dorrie relief from the troublesome pain," said Dr. Stanley, after a moment of thought, adding: "I have been waiting for her to get stronger before suggesting it."
"What is it?" briefly inquired his companion.
The young man explained the operation, and the father shivered involuntarily.
"That means great suffering—at least for a time," he said, with dry lips.
"Yes," and Phillip Stanley's eyes grew very pitiful as they met the almost hopeless ones opposite him.
"I cannot bear it!" cried his brother-in-law, passionately.
There followed a somber silence of several minutes, during which each heart struggled in secret rebellion under the galling burden imposed upon it.
"There is an alternative which we might try before attempting such radical treatment," Dr. Stanley at length remarked, with some hesitation. "It—at least it could do no harm, if—if you are willing to try."