remember now. It's nice to know you ain't an angel."

The nurse laughed outright. "Yes, I'm glad, too, for I want to live a
long time. The world is full of so many things I want to see."

"That's me, too, but I thought I was dead sure this time."

"No, dear, you are very much alive and are going to get well."

"That's good, but what's the matter? I can't get my breath."

"It's the ether, childie. You will be all right soon, but you must not
talk now. Just rest. Sleep if you can, so you can visit with Grandfather
and Grandmother Campbell. They are anxious to see you."

Meanwhile, downstairs in the office of the great hospital, the President
and his wife had sat like statues through all those interminable minutes
which were to tell the story of whether the little life was to be spared
or sacrificed. Vaguely they heard the bustle of busy nurses, vaguely
they saw the doctors hurrying in and out about their duties; but not
once did either man or woman move from the great chairs in which they
sat. Sometimes it seemed to the matron and head-nurse, who occasionally
passed that way, as if both had been turned to stone, so fixed was their
gaze, so rigid their bodies. But in reality neither had ever been more
keenly alive. Each heart was reviewing with painful accuracy the two
short years that had gone since the little band of orphans had come to
live with them. How much had happened in that time, and how dearly they
had come to love each one of the sisters!

"I could not care more for them if they were my own," whispered Mrs.
Campbell to herself.

"They are like my own flesh and blood," thought the President.

"I know a mother is not supposed to have favorites among her children,"
mused Mrs. Campbell, half guiltily, "but there is something about Peace
which makes her seem just a little the dearest to me."

"They are all such lovable girls," the President told himself, "but
somehow I can't help liking Peace a little the best. Everyone does. I
wonder why."

So they sat there side by side in the great hospital and pondered,
waiting for the verdict from the white room above them.

Suddenly Dr. Shumway stood before them. "It is all over," he began,
smiling cheerfully. "She will--"

"All over," whispered Mrs. Campbell, and fainted quite away.

When she opened her eyes again, the young doctor was bending over her,
chafing her hands, and she heard his remorseful voice saying, "My dear
Mrs. Campbell, you misunderstood me.