The surgeons arrived--instruments were prepared; the sufferer calm and tranquil; Madeline heroic as a loving woman should be; Roland, full of sympathy for her; Malcolm strong, tranquil, prayerful. "My daughter, is it not too much?" whispered her father. "For you, my father? can anything be too much? I can bear all;" and she kissed the dear face with steadfast lips. Close by her father's side, with restoratives in her hand, she remained throughout the whole painful trial; cold, and pale as marble. Roland stood near her, and Malcolm on the other side, with eyes closed, and heart uplifted to God in prayer. "It is all over," said the principal surgeon. "How?" whispered Madeline, to Roland. "Safe, Madeline! It has been successful." The tension had been too much; the strong heart of love gave way to the woman's weakness; the reaction was too great; and Roland, perceiving her falling, lifted her tenderly in his arms--the first time that he had pressed her form so closely since the days of childhood; imprinting one warm, pure, and tender kiss upon the sweet, pale face, he laid her quietly upon the couch in the next room. Aunt Matilda was there in anxious suspense. "Is it over, Mr. Bruce?" asked the lady. "All is well, madam, thus far, but Miss Hamilton needs your care;" and he bathed the face of the unconscious girl with the cologne that he had brought from the next room. "I will perform these offices, sir; you are not needed here,"--and dismissing him haughtily from the room, she proceeded to loosen the clothes, and apply restoratives. The fainting was deep and long, and hastily she called a physician from the next room. Yielding to remedies, in a few more minutes, some gasping words, and a heaving of the chest, indicated returning consciousness. The eyes unclosed--"How is my father, sir?" "Quite composed," was the reply; "he needs perfect quiet; do not see him just yet; there must be no emotion; when you are entirely restored, you can attend him." "When can you pronounce him out of danger?" "We cannot tell for twelve hours what will be the result." Madeline lay quiet for another hour, her lips moving constantly in prayer; at length she arose. "I am better, aunt; give me a glass of wine; I must return." "I am afraid, my dear child, that it is too much." "No, aunt, I cannot stay here--see! I can walk firmly; I am perfectly restored;" and she passed quietly into the next room. Stooping over her father, she pressed one long, loving kiss upon his dear face. "Do not speak; I shall not leave you, dear papa, again." Malcolm watched with deep interest the strong love that filled the heart of Madeline; and coming to her side, he said, "My dear young lady, is your strength equal to this great demand? I am ready to stay, and Roland will aid me." She smiled as she replied, "But you are not his daughter, his Madeline."