Anne's House of Dreams [80]
"You say you think that Dick can be cured. But are you SURE of it?"
"Certainly not. Nobody could be sure of such a thing. There may have been lesions of the brain itself, the effect of which can never be removed. But if, as I believe, his loss of memory and other faculties is due merely to the pressure on the brain centers of certain depressed areas of bone, then he can be cured."
"But it's only a possibility!" insisted Anne. "Now, suppose you tell Leslie and she decides to have the operation. It will cost a great deal. She will have to borrow the money, or sell her little property. And suppose the operation is a failure and Dick remains the same.
How will she be able to pay back the money she borrows, or make a living for herself and that big helpless creature if she sells the farm?"
"Oh, I know--I know. But it is my duty to tell her. I can't get away from that conviction."
"Oh, I know the Blythe stubbornness," groaned Anne. "But don't do this solely on your own responsibility. Consult Doctor Dave."
"I HAVE done so," said Gilbert reluctantly.
"And what did he say?"
"In brief--as you say--leave well enough alone. Apart from his prejudice against new-fangled surgery, I'm afraid he looks at the case from your point of view--don't do it, for Leslie's sake."
"There now," cried Anne triumphantly. "I do think, Gilbert, that you ought to abide by the judgment of a man nearly eighty, who has seen a great deal and saved scores of lives himself--surely his opinion ought to weigh more than a mere boy's."
"Thank you."
"Don't laugh. It's too serious."
"That's just my point. It IS serious. Here is a man who is a helpless burden. He may be restored to reason and usefulness--"
"He was so very useful before," interjected Anne witheringly.
"He may be given a chance to make good and redeem the past. His wife doesn't know this. I do. It is therefore my duty to tell her that there is such a possibility. That, boiled down, is my decision."
"Don't say `decision' yet, Gilbert. Consult somebody else. Ask Captain Jim what he thinks about it."
"Very well. But I'll not promise to abide by his opinion, Anne.
This is something a man must decide for himself. My conscience would never be easy if I kept silent on the subject."
"Oh, your conscience!" moaned Anne. "I suppose that Uncle Dave has a conscience too, hasn't he?"
"Yes. But I am not the keeper of his conscience. Come, Anne, if this affair did not concern Leslie--if it were a purely abstract case, you would agree with me,--you know you would."
"I wouldn't," vowed Anne, trying to believe it herself. "Oh, you can argue all night, Gilbert, but you won't convince me. Just you ask Miss Cornelia what she thinks of it."
"You're driven to the last ditch, Anne, when you bring up Miss Cornelia as a reinforcement. She will say, `Just like a man,' and rage furiously. No matter. This is no affair for Miss Cornelia to settle. Leslie alone must decide it."
"You know very well how she will decide it," said Anne, almost in tears. "She has ideals of duty, too. I don't see how you can take such a responsibility on your shoulders. _I_ couldn't."
"`Because right is right to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence,'"
quoted Gilbert.
"Oh, you think a couplet of poetry a convincing argument!" scoffed Anne. "That is so like a man."
And then she laughed in spite of herself. It sounded so like an echo of Miss Cornelia.
"Well, if you won't accept Tennyson as an authority, perhaps you will believe the words of a Greater than he," said Gilbert seriously. "`Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.' I believe that, Anne, with all my heart. It's the greatest and grandest verse in the Bible--or in any literature--and the TRUEST, if there are comparative degrees of trueness. And it's the first duty of a man to tell the truth, as he sees it and believes it."
"In this case the truth won't make poor Leslie free," sighed Anne. "It will probably end in still more bitter