He was obdurate in his ignorance.
Mr. H—— urged the otherwise hopelessness of the case. His words were impatient, almost angry. But still the man said, "No!"
Sister Warwick drew him aside, and, taking a candle, led him along the ward to the side of a little cot where a smiling, rosy child lay sleeping sweetly. She pulled away the sheet and showed him the little silver tube in her neck.
"She would not have been alive without it," she said. "She was at death's door, like your little one. It saved her life. She is going to be bonny and strong. Let Mr. H—— do what he wants. You must; you cannot say no now!"
They hurried back.
Was the poor little face changing?
"There, do it, doctor, do it! Have your way!"
The reluctant words were scarcely uttered before the clever strong hands were at work.
There was immediate relief, and for a moment they believed that the little life, hanging trembling on such a tiny thread, was to be given back. But suddenly the baby hands dropped, and the little head fell back.