"Then he told me in an undertone what he had done, stopping every now and then to wipe his face and gather breath.
"My husband had scarcely uttered these words," continued Louise, "when I heard a step on the stairs. It was he! it was that blessed angel of a doctor, come to help us in our sore distress.
"And what do you think he said in his deep voice when he got into the room?
"God bless you, my friends, but I nearly broke my neck on those stairs. Where's that child?"
"'Here he is, my dear, darling doctor.' I knew no better way to speak to him, with his dress cravat showing over his greatcoat, and his decorations dangling like a little bunch of keys at his buttonhole.
"He took off his wrappings, stooped over the child, turned him over, more gently even than his mother could have done, and laid his own head first against his back, then against his breast. How I tried to read his eyes! but they know how to hide their thoughts.
"'We must perform an operation here,' says he; 'and it is high time.'
"Just at this moment the hospital doctor came in, and whispered to him, 'I'm afraid you didn't want to be disturbed, sir.'
"'Oh, never mind. I am sorry it wasn't sooner, though. Get everything ready now.'