[Sidenote:  If Possible]

“The dream shall come true, if it is possible.  Let me see your eyes.”  He stopped the horse on the brow of the hill, where the sun shone clear and strong, stood up, and turned the blind face to the light.  Then, sitting down once more, he asked innumerable questions.  When he finally was silent, Ambrose North turned to him, indifferently.

“Well?” The tone was simply polite inquiry.  The matter seemed to be one which concerned nobody.

“Again I do not know,” returned Allan.  “This is altogether out of my line, but, if you’ll go to the city with me, I’ll take you to a friend of mine who is a great specialist.  If anything can be done, he is the man who can do it.  Will you come?”

There was a long pause.  “If Barbara is willing,” he answered simply.  “Ask her.”

* * * * *

[Sidenote:  The Plunge]

Meanwhile, Eloise was talking to Barbara.  First, she told her of the letters she had written in her behalf and to which the answers might come any day now.  Then she asked if she might order preserves from Aunt Miriam, and discussed patterns and material for the lingerie she had previously spoken of.  Finding, at length, that the best way to approach a difficult subject was the straightest one, she took the plunge.

“Have you always been lame?” she asked.  She did not look at Barbara, but tried to speak carelessly, as she gazed out of the window.

“Yes,” came the answer, so low that she could scarcely hear it.

“Wouldn’t you like to walk like the rest of us?” continued Eloise.

Barbara writhed under the torturing question.  “My mind can walk,” she said, with difficulty; “my soul isn’t lame.”

The tone made Eloise turn quickly—­and hate herself bitterly for her awkwardness.  She saw that an apology would only make a bad matter worse, so she went straight on.

“Doctor Conrad is very skilful,” she continued.  “In the city, he is one of the few really great surgeons.  He told me that he would like to make an examination and see if an operation would not do away with the crutches.  He thinks there may be a good chance.  If there is, will you take it?”

“Thank you,” said Barbara, almost inaudibly.  Her voice had sunk to a whisper and she was very pale.  “I do not mean to seem ungrateful, but it is impossible.”

“Impossible!” repeated Eloise.  “Why?”

“Because of father,” explained Barbara.  Her colour was coming back slowly now.  “I am all he has, my work supplies his needs, and I dare not take the risk.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Barbara nodded.

“You’re not afraid?”

Barbara’s blue eyes opened wide with astonishment.  “Why should I be afraid?” she asked.  “Do you take me for a coward?”

Eloise knelt beside Barbara’s low chair and put her strong arms around the slender, white-clad figure.  “Listen, dear,” she said.  Her face was shining as though with some great inner light.