do _anything_ for you,
dear cousin Emily."

"I do not want aunty and uncle to know of this till it is all over,
Agnes. They go to the Springs to-morrow, to remain some days, as you
know: and I have arranged with Dr. Rodney to come while they are gone,
and bring a surgeon from the city, and it will all be over before they
return."

"And is there no _danger_, cousin Emily?"

"Danger of what, dear?--of death? Oh yes; the chances are many against
me; and even if the operation is safely performed, it may not arrest the
disease. But to one who suffers the torture which it is the will of
Heaven that I should bear, speedy death would only be a happy release.
And yet, Agnes, do not misunderstand me; I would not for the world do
anything to shorten my life of suffering. Oh no! 'All the years of my
appointed time will I wait till my change come.' The course I am going
to pursue is advised by the physicians, and it may be the means of
restoration to health, at least for some years. Agnes, pray for me."

When Mrs. Wharton kissed Emily for good-bye, and told her to be a good
girl, and take care of her health, she little imagined the suffering
through which her gentle niece was to pass before they met again. No
one dreamed of it but Agnes.

The next day, in answer to a message from Emily, the physicians came.
They found her courageous and cheerful; for she was sustained by an arm
all-powerful. Strength was given to her for the day and the occasion; a
wonderful fortitude sustained her; and the precious promise was verified
to her--"When thou goest through the waters, I will be with thee."

And Agnes, who sat with one hand over her eyes, and the other clasping
that of Emily, knew only by a sudden and long-continued pressure of the
hand that the knife was doing its work. There was not a groan--only one
long-drawn sigh--and it was over; and the result was better than their
most sanguine hopes.

Mrs. Wharton returned, after an absence necessarily prolonged to some
weeks. She found Emily sitting on the sofa, looking much as she had done
when they parted; and it was not till long afterward that she discovered
what had been the cause of Emily's illness, and learned how much she
had endured. She understood many things now which had been mysteries to
her before, realizing, in some degree, the torment of mind and body
through which this gentle one had passed, and the reason of the bidding
down of the tenderest feelings of her heart.

P