Vicarious Atonement

"I can't tell you yet, dear. I have ... all of us have done our mortal
best and now the issues are in higher hands than ours. I hope ... But
come, tell me, Rose, what made you feel so sure that the trouble _was_ a
tumor on the brain. Was it merely a guess, based on what I had explained
to you?"

"No. I ... I just _knew_ it. I reckon that God told me so," was her
reply.

"Well, God was certainly right, then," smiled Donald, glad of any chance
to relieve the tension. "Do you want to see the growth? See, it is as
large, nearly, as a walnut. Do you wonder that, with this thing pressing
more and more into her brain, Lou was robbed of her power to talk and
act?"

The girl broke down at last and wept hysterically, which caused Donald
to look as uneasy as any mere man is bound to in such a circumstance;
but Miss Merriman came to his rescue with comforting arms, and the
words, "There, there, dear. Cry all you want to now. It's all over, and
Dr. MacDonald will tell you that if she gets well--as we believe that
she will--little Lou will be as healthy and happy a baby as she ever
was in her life. He's taken out that wicked growth, kernel and all, and
it will never come back again. Will it, doctor?"