ng I used to talk about? It was
a novelty then, but after this I won't have anything left to describe
to you. What do you suppose we will talk about on our first jaunt by
the brook next spring?"

Alec's face changed oddly. "Maybe there won't be any jaunt by the
brook next spring--for me," he said, looking away from her startled
eyes.

"Why, what do you mean?" she asked, and then wished she had not
spoken, for she was suddenly afraid of his answer.

"I may not be,--you can't always tell," he stammered, looking as if he
wanted to take it all back. "Let's not talk about it now, please," he
begged, and Blue Bonnet gladly let the subject drop.

She rode on in silence the rest of the way, depressed and miserable.
Alec's words were a revelation; she had not dreamed he felt so ill and
doubtful of living. She had thought he would grow strong and well at
the ranch, and already he was worse and spoke of his case as hopeless.

They were greeted with a loud outcry from the girls, who were perched
on the top bar of the corral gate awaiting them. They had been
somewhat startled upon arising to find Blue Bonnet gone, but Firefly's
absence from his stall had explained her disappearance.

"Hurry up,--we're starving!" they cried; and Alec and Blue Bonnet,
responding gaily, dismounted and hastened to the house with the rest,
both glad to escape questions in the general hilarity and press of
hunger.

"Grandmother," said Blue Bonnet later in the day; "I'm worried about
Alec." It was just after the siesta, and seeing her grandmother
sitting alone in her chosen seat under the magnolia, she had gone out
for a chat. They were seldom alone these days.

"He does look tired," Mrs. Clyde admitted; "but it is natural he
should after that long ride."

"It isn't that." Blue Bonnet shook her head. "I'm afraid he's--got
something."

"Got something?" her grandmother repeated in puzzled surprise.

"_Has_ something, if you object to 'got.' Has something the matter
with him, I mean,--serious, you know."

Then she repeated the conversation she had had with Alec that morning.
Mrs. Clyde listened in silence, but her eyes were troubled when Blue
Bonnet finished.

"It may not be so bad as Alec imagines," she said with a forced
hopefulness. "He has been outgrowing his strength, and being
overtired, too, makes him despondent."

In spite of her words, from that time on Mrs. Clyde was more observant
of the boy, and the moment she saw the first sign