"I suppose you wouldn't like to go with me?" he asked, with
his sudden smile. Julia's heart jumped; her eyes answered him. "Well,
wrap up snug," said Jim, "for there's the very deuce of a wind!"

So Julia tied herself into the most demure of hats, and buttoned her
long coat about her, and Jim shook himself into his heaviest overcoat,
and pulled an old cap down over his eyes. They let themselves out at a
side door, and a gust of wet wind howled down upon them, and shook a
shower from the madly rippling ivy leaves. The sky was high and pale,
and crossed by hurrying and scattered clouds; a clean, roaring gale tore
over the hills, and ruffled the rain pools in the road, and bowed the
trees like whips. The bay was iron colour; choppy waves chased each
other against the piers. Now and then a pale flicker of sunlight
brightened the whole scene with blues and greens and shadows
spectacularly clear; then the clouds met again, and the wind sang like a
snapped wire.

Julia and the doctor climbed the long flights of stairs that cut
straight up through the scattered homes on the hill. These earthen steps
were still running with the late rain, and moss lay on them like a green
film. Julia breathed hard, a veil of blown hair crossed her bright eyes,
her stinging cheeks glowed.

"I love this kind of a day!" she shouted. Jim's gloved hand helped her
to cross a wide pool, and his handsome eyes were full of all delight as
he shouted back.

Presently, when they were in a more quiet bit of road, he told her of
some of his early boyish walks. "Listen, Julia!" he said, catching her
arm. "D'you hear them? It's the peepers! We used to call them that,
little frogs, you know--sure sign of the spring!"

And as the wind lulled Julia heard the brave little voices of a hundred
tiny croakers in some wet bit of meadow. "We'll have buttercups next
week!" said Jim.

He told her something of the sick man to whom they were going, and spoke
of other cases, of his work and his hopes.

"Poor Kearney!" said Jim, "his oldest kid was sick, then his wife had a
new baby, and now this! You'll like the baby--he's a nice little kid. I
took him in my arms last time I was here, and I wish you could have seen
the little lip curl up, but he wouldn't cry! A kid two months old can be
awfully cunning!" He looked a little ashamed of this sentiment, but
Julia thought she had never seen anything so bright and simple and
lovable as the smile with which he asked her sym