Chapter 9

The two children approached, and stood before the Doctor and his guest,
the latter of whom had not hitherto taken particular notice of them. He
now looked from one to the other, with the pleasant, genial expression
of a person gifted with a natural liking for children, and the
freemasonry requisite to bring him acquainted with them; and it lighted
up his face with a pleasant surprise to see two such beautiful
specimens of boyhood and girlhood in this dismal, spider-haunted house,
and under the guardianship of such a savage lout as the grim Doctor. He
seemed particularly struck by the intelligence and sensibility of Ned's
face, and met his eyes with a glance that Ned long afterwards
remembered; but yet he seemed quite as much interested by Elsie, and
gazed at her face with a perplexed, inquiring glance.

"These are fine children," said he. "May I ask if they are your own?--
Pardon me if I ask amiss," added he, seeing a frown on the Doctor's
brow.

"Ask nothing about the brats," replied he grimly. "Thank Heaven, they
are not my children; so your question is answered."

"I again ask pardon," said Mr. Hammond. "I am fond of children; and the
boy has a singularly fine countenance; not in the least English. The
true American face, no doubt. As to this sweet little girl, she
impresses me with a vague resemblance to some person I have seen. Hers
I should deem an English face."

"These children are not our topic," said the grim Doctor, with gruff
impatience. "If they are to be so, our conversation is ended. Ned, what
do you know of this gravestone with the bloody foot on it?"

"It is not a bloody foot, Doctor Grim," said Ned, "and I am not sure
that it is a foot at all; only Elsie and I chose to fancy so, because
of a story that we used to play at. But we were children then. The
gravestone lies on the ground, within a little bit of a walk of our
door; but this snow has covered it all over; else we might go out and
see it."

"We will go out at any rate," said the Doctor, "and if the Englishman
chooses to come to America, he must take our snows as he finds them.
Take your shovel, Ned, and if necessary we will uncover the
gravestone."

They accordingly muffled themselves in their warmest, and plunged forth
through a back door into Ned and Elsie's playground, as the grim Doctor
was wont to call it. The snow, except in one spot close at hand, lay
deep, like cold oblivion, over the surging graves, and piled itself in
drifted heaps against every stone that raised itself above the level;
it filled enviously the letters of the inscriptions, enveloping all the
dead in one great