all odd how Ally— But you two are beginning rather young to see through a woman's eyes. Let it alone, boys, let it alone, only torment comes of it;" and the Doctor fell into a reverie, such as we had often seen him in before, and which we knew better than to interrupt.
It was a wet and ugly climb up Black Ledge that morning. In the hollows of the rocks and under the giant oaks there still lay patches of slippery snow and ice; but the air was soft and balmy, and one blue hepatica welcomed us. It was growing almost under the trunk of the fallen tree in whose root Ally had found the stone.
"Ally said it was n't of any use to look here," said Jim, unthinkingly.
Dr. Miller looked at him almost severely.
"Youngster," says he, "are n't you a little ashamed of yourself?"
"Yes, sir, a good deal," replied Jim, frankly enough to disarm the most contemptuous critic. "A good deal. But I can't help it. I do believe, if we find the stones at all, we shall find them where Ally said they were."
"And I suppose you believe, too, that this stone here"—tapping his waistcoat pocket,—"told her where its 'friends,' as she calls them, were?" said the Doctor, with kind, twinkling, compassionate eyes. "Poor boy—if Ally, at ten, does this to your senses, what 'll she do to you six years hence?"
