As Barbara went across the room to another chair, his eyes followed her with intense interest.  Eloise shrank from him a little—­she had never seen him like this before.  Yet she knew, from the expression of his face, that he had found hope, and was glad.

“Barbara?” It was Miriam, calling from upstairs.

“In just a minute, Aunty.  Excuse me, please—­I’ll come right back.”

She was scarcely out of the room before Eloise leaned over to Allan, her face alight with eager questioning.  “You think—?”

[Sidenote:  Willing to Try]

“I don’t know,” he returned, in a low tone.  “It depends on the hardness of the muscles and several other local conditions.  Of course it’s impossible to tell definitely without a thorough examination, but I’ve done it successfully in two adult cases, and have seen it done more than a dozen times.  I’d be very willing to try.”

“Oh, Allan,” whispered Eloise.  “I’m so glad.”

Barbara’s padded crutches sounded softly on the stairs as she came down.  Eloise went to the window and studied the horse attentively, though he was not of the restless sort that needs to be tied.

While she was watching, Ambrose North came around the base of the hill, crossed the road, and opened the gate.  He had been to his old solitude at the top of the hill, where, as nowhere else, he found peace.  While he was talking with the visitors, Miriam went out, taking the neatly-packed suit-cases, one at a time, and put them into the buggy.

“Mr. North,” said Doctor Conrad, “while these girls are chattering, will you go for a little drive with me?”

The blind man’s fine old face illumined with pleasure.  “I should like it very much,” he said.  “It is a long time since I had have a drive.”

“It’s more like a walk,” laughed Allan, as they went out, “with this horse.”

“We sold our horses many years ago,” the old man explained, as he climbed in.  “Miriam is afraid of horses and Barbara said she did not care to go.  I thought the open air and the slight exercise would be good for her, but she insisted upon my selling them.”

[Sidenote:  About Barbara]

“It is about Barbara that I wished to speak,” said Allan.  “With your consent, I should like to make a thorough examination and see whether an operation would not do away with her crutches entirely.”

“It is no use,” sighed North, wearily.  “We went everywhere and did everything, long ago.  There is nothing that can be done.”

“But there may be,” insisted Allan.  “We have learned much, in my profession, in the last twenty years.  May I try?”

“You’re asking me if you can hurt my baby?”

“Not to hurt her more than is necessary to heal.  Understand me, I do not know but what you are right, but I hope, and believe, that there may be a chance.”

“I have dreamed sometimes,” said the old man, very slowly, “that my baby could walk and I could see.”