places; in they crowded, full
of interest and talk. "What's the case?" "Which side is it?"

Don't think them heartless; they are neither better nor worse than you
or I; they get over their professional horrors, and into their proper
work; and in them pity, as an _emotion_, ending in itself or at best
in tears and a long-drawn breath, lessens, while pity, as a _motive_,
is quickened, and gains power and purpose. It is well for poor human
nature that it is so.

The operating-theatre is crowded; much talk and fun, and all the
cordiality and stir of youth. The surgeon with his staff of assistants
is there. In comes Ailie; one look at her quiets and abates the eager
students. That beautiful old woman is too much for them; they sit
down, and are dumb, and gaze at her. These rough boys feel the power
of her presence. She walks in quietly, but without haste; dressed in
her mutch, her neckerchief, her white dimity short-gown, her black
bombazeen petticoat, showing her white worsted stockings and her
carpet shoes. Behind her was James with Rab. James sat down in the
distance, and took that huge and noble head between his knees. Rab
looked perplexed and dangerous--forever cocking his ear and dropping
it as fast.

Ailie stepped up on a seat, and laid herself on the table, as her
friend the surgeon told her; arranged herself, gave a rapid look at
James, shut her eyes, rested herself on me, and took my hand.
The operation was at once begun; it was necessarily slow; and
chloroform--one of God's best gifts to his suffering children--was
then unknown. The surgeon did his work. The pale face showed its pain,
but was still and silent. Rab's soul was working within him; he saw
something strange was going on, blood flowing from his mistress, and
she suffering; his ragged ear was up and importunate; he growled and
gave now and then a sharp, impatient yelp; he would have liked to have
done something to that man. But James had him firm, and gave him a
_glower_ from time to time, and an intimation of a possible kick; all
the better for James--it kept his eye and his mind off Ailie.

It is over; she is dressed, steps gently and decently down from the
table, looks for James; then turning to the surgeon and the students,
she curtsies, and in a low, clear voice, begs their pardon if she has
behaved ill. The students--all of us--wept like children; the surgeon
wrapped her up carefully, and, resting on James and me, Ailie went
to her room, and R