should be removed to the hospital, where a surgeon—­a specialist—­could perform the operation.  To this the young lady objected, on the ground that she could not assist in nursing, if her mother entered the hospital; and she would not consent to the separation.  She asked what amount would be required to secure at home the services of the surgeon, a trained nurse, and the subsequent treatment; and I told her I thought a hundred dollars would cover all incidentals, and secure one of the most skilful surgeons in the city.  I continued from time to time to see the mother, and administered such medicines as I deemed necessary to invigorate and tone up the patient’s system for the operation.  One day in October, the young lady came to pay me for some prescriptions, and asked if a few weeks’ delay would enhance the danger of the operation.  I assured her it was important to lose no time, and urged her to arrange matters so as to remove the patient to the hospital as soon as possible, offering to procure her admission.  She showed great distress, and informed me that she hoped to receive very soon a considerable sum of money, from some artistic designs that she felt sure would secure the prize.  A week later she came again, and I gave her a prescription to allay her mother’s nervousness.  Then, with much agitation, she told me that she was going South by the night express, to seek assistance from her mother’s father, who was a man of wealth, but had disowned Mrs. Brentano on account of her marriage.  She asked for a written statement of the patient’s condition, and the absolute necessity of the operation.  I wrote it, and as she stood looking at the paper, she said: 

“‘Doctor do you believe in an Ahnung?’ I said, ‘A what?’ She answered slowly and solemnly:  ’An Ahnung—­a presentiment?  I have a crushing presentiment that trouble will come to me, if I leave mother; and yet she entreats, commands me to go South.  It is my duty to obey her, but the errand is so humiliating I shrink, I dread it.  I shall not be long away, and meanwhile do please be so kind as to see her, and cheer her up.  If her father refuses to give me the one hundred dollars, I will take her to the hospital when I return.’  I walked to the door with her, and her last words were:  ’Doctor, I trust my mother to you; don’t let her suffer.’  I have never seen her again, until I entered this room.  I visited Mrs. Brentano several times, but she grew worse very rapidly.  One night the ensuing week, my bell was rung at twelve o’clock, and a woman gave me this note, which was written by the prisoner immediately after her arrest, and which enclosed a second, addressed to her mother.”

As he read aloud the concluding lines invoking the mother’s prayers, the doctor’s voice trembled.  He took off his spectacles, wiped them, and resumed: