things. It would transform him into a mere machine, brutalised and
calloused, with only one or two emotions aside from selfishness left to
thrive in his dwarfed soul, or it would humanise him to godlike
unselfishness, attune him to a divine sympathy, and mellow his heart in
tenderness beyond words. In one instance he would be feared; in the
other, only loved, by those who came to him.

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.