Hilda Garret was tall for her age, in spite of the tender diminutive bestowed on her by Schwartz. Her face was as pale as marble, and as beautiful as that of the Venus de Medici. Indeed, in her white robe, with pallid face and still looks, she was not unlike a statue. The lack of eyesight took away all expression, and she lived and moved in a world of shadows. Ellis was profoundly touched by her beauty and helplessness, and by the tender little cry she uttered when Schwartz took her hand.
"Mine lofely laty, I haf brought Dr. Ellis to zee you. He is mine goot friend, and glever. He vill mak you to zee, mine heart."
"Oh, doctor," said Hilda, clasping her hands, and speaking in a low, but musical voice, "can you give me back my sight?"
"That I cannot say as yet," replied Ellis. "I cannot perform miracles. If your sight can be restored, I hope to restore it. But I must first ask you a few questions and examine your eyes."
"No, no, papa, you must stay. I wish my father would come in also. I want him to hold my hand and give me courage."
"Zo!" replied Schwartz, with a sad expression at this preference. "Vait, mine liddle Hilda, I vill pring your vater to you."
Hilda nodded and a charming smile overspread her pale face. When Schwartz left the room she asked Ellis to let her pass her hand over his face, as she wished to know his looks. Ellis readily consented, and Hilda, with the delicate touch of the blind, ran her fingers over his features. "You are nice-looking," she said naïvely, when this was done. "I like nice-looking people."
"Thank you," answered Ellis, laughing. "I am obliged for the compliment, Miss Garret. And now I must ask you a few questions."
To this Hilda readily consented. It is not necessary to set forth the conversation or examination _in extensor_, as the questions were purely technical.
Captain Garret entered, and held Hilda's hand while Ellis made an examination of her eyes. This took some time, but was unsatisfactory, as Ellis could not bring himself to pronounce an opinion. Privately he thought that he could cure the cataract by an operation; but lacking the self-confidence which a great man should have, he hesitated to express his private views.
"I must make another examination," he said, after an exhaustive conversation, "before I can commit myself to an opinion. Yet I think I can give you some hope."