"About Jack?" repeated Betty, beginning to look interested.
"Yes, dear. I know how dearly you love your little brother, and how happy it would make you if anything could be done for him—anything to help his illness, I mean."
"Oh, Mrs. Hamilton, could anything really——" Betty could say no more, but her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes were more expressive than words.
"Dr. Bell was talking to me about Jack last evening," Mrs. Hamilton went on. "He is very much interested in the case, and as soon as your mother is well enough he is going to ask her consent to bring a famous surgeon here to see Jack."
Betty was actually trembling with excitement.
"And he thinks—he thinks that something might be done, so that Jack would be able to walk like other people?" she gasped.
"He thinks something might be tried."
"I remember I once heard mother say that when Jack was a baby a doctor told father that if he ever grew strong enough to bear it an operation might be performed. Jack was so delicate for a long time that mother never dared to think of it, but he is much stronger now."
"Well," said Mrs. Hamilton, rising, "we won't talk to any one about it just yet, least of all to Jack himself, because, you know, it might amount to nothing, and then think how terribly disappointed he would be. But you and I can talk about it sometimes, and it will be our little secret."
"Yes," said Betty eagerly, "and as soon as mother is well enough she shall know too. Oh, Mrs. Hamilton, you have made me so very, very happy I don't know what to do."