their father's, and most of all because they are the offspring of my own
beloved child. Should I outlive her, they shall want for nothing their
grandfather can do to make them happy."

"I know it, dear father, and can leave them to your and their heavenly
Father's care without a doubt or fear," she said, with a gentle sigh
over the thought of the parting with her darlings that might be so near.

She went on to speak of some business matters, then said: "I think that
is all, papa. I do not care to make any alteration in my will; and, as
you know, you and brother Horace are my executors. To-morrow I must have
a little talk with each of my children, and then I shall be ready for
Arthur and his assistants.

"I want all my children near at hand in case of an unfavorable result
and that I am able to say a few last words, bidding them all farewell."

There was again a moment of silence, her father seeming too much
overcome to speak; then she went on: "I think they must not be told
to-night, that the two younger ones need know nothing of the danger till
the morning of the operation. I would spare them all the suffering of
anticipation that I can; and were I but sure, quite sure, of going
safely through it all, they should know nothing of it till afterward;
but I cannot rob them of a few last words with their mother."

"My darling! always unselfish, always thinking of others first!" Mr.
Dinsmore said, in moved tones, bending over her and pressing his lips
again and again to her pale cheek and brow.

"Surely almost any mother would think of her children before herself,"
she returned with a sweet, sad smile.

But just at that instant childish footsteps were heard in the hall
without, then a gentle rap on the door, and Walter's voice asking,
"Mamma, may I come in?"

"Yes, my son," she answered, in cheerful tones, and in a moment he was
at her side, asking, in some alarm and anxiety, "Mamma, dear, are you
sick?" bending over her as he spoke, and pressing ardent kisses upon
cheek and lip and brow.

"Not very, mother's darling baby boy," she answered, lifting to his eyes
full of tender mother love.

"'Baby boy?'" repeated Walter, with a merry laugh, gently smoothing her
hair, and patting her cheek lovingly, while he spoke. "Mamma, dear, have
you forgotten that I am eleven years old?"

"No, dear; but for all that you are still mother's dear, dear baby boy!"
she said, hugging him close.

"Well, I shan't mind your calling