A few tears—those were all she shed, before she recollected them any questions she longed to ask.
"Will there be much suffering?"
He shook his head. "That we cannot tell, It depends on constitution; on a thousand things. But the late discoveries of medical science have given us large power of alleviation."
"My father!" said Margaret, trembling all over.
"I do not know Mr. Hale. I mean, it is difficult to give advice. But I should say, bear on, with the knowledge you have forced me to give you so abruptly, till the fact which I could not withhold has become in some degree familiar to you, so that you may, without too great an effort, be able to give what comfort you can to your father. Before then,—my visits, which, of course, I shall repeat from time to time, although I fear I can do nothing but alleviate,—a thousand little circumstances will have occurred to awaken his alarm, to deepen it—so that he will be all the better prepared.—Nay, my dear young lady-nay, my dear—I saw Mr. Thornton, and I honour your father for the sacrifice he has made, however mistaken I may believe him to be.—Well, this once, if it will please you, my dear. Only remember, when I come again, I come as a friend. And you must learn to look upon me as such, because seeing each other—getting to know each other at such times as these, is worth years of morning calls."
Margaret could not speak for crying; but she wrung his hand at parting.
"That's what I call a fine girl!" thought Dr. Donaldson, when he was seated in his carriage, and
