"He is in the house," she said, "but he does not wish to see you again until the moment when you can give him relief."
I said a few more words, and soon afterwards took my leave.
Early the next morning, accompanied by a surgeon and an anæsthetist on whose assistance I could depend, I arrived at Queen Anne's Street. We were shown at once to the room where my patient waited for me. He was sitting in a chair near the window. The nurse was standing in the background, having made all necessary preparations.
"Here you are," he said, rising and greeting me with a cheerful smile, "and here am I, and there is a Providence over us. Now, the sooner you put things right the better."
His courage delighted me. I was also much relieved to find that neither his wife nor father was present.
"With the help of God, I believe I shall put you right," I said, in a tone of assurance, which I absolutely felt.
An hour and a half later I went into the sitting-room, where Mainwaring's father and wife were anxiously waiting for my verdict.
"The operation is well over," I exclaimed, "and my patient is at present sound asleep. When he awakens the moment will have arrived when we must prove whether I have done anything for him or not. Will you have the courage to come into the room with me, Mrs. Mainwaring? I should like him to see you when he opens his eyes. If he recognises you, I shall know that I have been successful."
"No," she said, "the ordeal is too terrible. Failure means too much agony. I cannot endure it; I am not strong enough."
"Then what is to be done?" I asked. "In any case, Mainwaring will know his father. His knowledge of _you_ is the test which I require to tell me whether I have succeeded or failed."
She smiled faintly and left the room. In a moment she returned, holding by the hand a beautiful little girl of five years of age. She had a wealth of red-gold hair falling almost to her waist; her large eyes were like sapphires.
"This is Nancy," said the mother, "her father's pet and idol. I sent for her this morning. When my husband awakens, take her into the room--she is not shy. If her father recognises her, all is well."
All that day I watched by Mainwaring; in the evening I came for Nancy. "Come," I said. The child looked at me with her grave eyes--she was perfectly calm and self-possessed. I lifted her in my arms and left the room with her.