"Then why did you ask me if I was afraid? You're the third person who's asked me that this morning," returned Jewel, with wondering inflections in her soft voice. "Are New York people afraid of things?"

"Well, not so's you'd notice it as a rule," returned Zeke. "I'm glad if she ain't one o' the scared kind," he pursued, as if to himself.

"Oh, this is splendid," declared Jewel, relieved by her companion's smile; "I don't know as Anna Belle ever had such a good ride. See the trees, dearie! How the leaves are coming out! They aren't nearly so far out in Chicago; but oh," as the horse turned, "there's a big storm coming! What a black cloud! We're just in time."

"I don't see any cloud," said Zeke, staring about.

"Why, right there in front of us," excitedly, pointing at the long opaque mass against the sky.

"That? Why, that's hills." Zeke laughed. "The mountain they call it here. Pretty sickly mountain we'd think it was up Berkshire way."

"Oh, it's a mountain, Anna Belle," joyfully, "we're really seeing a mountain!"

"No you ain't," remarked Zeke emphatically. "Not by a large majority. Guess Chicago's some flat, ain't it?"

"We don't have hills, no. So now we're going to see grandpa's park, and the ravine, and the brook, and—and everything!"

Zeke stole a furtive look at the owner of the joyous voice. The voluminous ribbon bows behind her ears were mostly in evidence, as she bent her face over her doll in congratulation.

"Left Mr. Evringham in town, did you?" he asked.

"Yes, he was busy, and in a hurry to get to his office. Grandpa's such an important man."

"Is he?" asked Zeke.

"Why ye—es! Didn't you know it?"

"I surmised something of the kind. So Dr. Ballard looked after you."

"Yes,—and I do hope my trunk will come."

Jewel looked wistfully at the driver. In spite of his stiff and elegant appearance he had been surprisingly affable. "I have a checked silk dress," she added modestly.

"You don't say so!" ejaculated Zeke, wholly won by the smile bent upon him. "Well, now, if that trunk don't show up by noon, I'll have to do something about it."



"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed the child.

They now sped through the gates of the park and by the porter's lodge, and began the ascent of a winding road. Handsome residences were set among the fine trees, and at sight of each one Jewel looked expectant and eager.

"I expect mother'll be kind of looking out for us," continued Zeke. "Poor kid!" he added mentally.

"Grandpa said something about your mother."

"His housekeeper, Mrs. Forbes."

"Oh yes, of course I know about Mrs. Forbes," returned Jewel hastily and politely. "He told me your name too," she added suggestively.

"Yes, I'm Zeke. And you just remember," emphatically, "that I come when I'm called. Will you?"

"Yes," replied the child, laughing a little. "Do you know my name?"

"It's Julia, isn't it?"

"Yes, but if you called me by it perhaps I shouldn't come, for I'm used to the name of Jewel."

"Pretty name, all right," returned Zeke sententiously. "Now you can see your grandpa's house. The one with the long porch."

Jewel jumped up and down a little in the seat and held Anna Belle to get a good view. The brown horse trotted with a will, and in a minute more they had passed up the driveway and paused beneath the porte-cochere.

Mrs. Forbes threw open the door and stood unsmiling.

"Where is Mr. Evringham?" she asked, addressing her son.

"Stayed in town."

The housekeeper stepped forward and helped down the little girl, who had risen and was looking brightly expectant.

"How do you do, Julia," she said. "Did you come out alone on the cars?"

"No. Dr. Ballard came with me."

"Oh, that was the way of it. Zeke, hitch up the brougham. The ladies are going out to lunch."

"Why didn't they let me know?" grumbled Zeke. "Could have hitched up the brougham just as well in the first place."

"Don't ask me," returned his mother acidly. "Where is your bag, Julia? I hope you haven't left it in the train?"

"No, I didn't have any. I used mother's. She knew I'd have my trunk to-night."

"Then come in and I'll show you where your room is."

The child looked eagerly and admiringly from side to side as she followed Mrs. Forbes up two flights of broad shallow stairs and into an apartment which to her eyes seemed luxurious.

"Was this ever my father's room?" she asked.

"Why yes, I believe it was," returned Mrs. Forbes, to whom that circumstance had not before occurred.

"How kind of grandpa to let me have it!" said Jewel, highly pleased.

"He wasn't in it much, your father wasn't. Away at school or some other place mostly. Where's your trunk?"

"It's coming. Zeke said he'd attend to it." Jewel looked up happily. "I have a"—she was intending to communicate to Mrs. Forbes the exciting detail of her wardrobe when the housekeeper interrupted her.

"My son's name is Ezekiel," she said impressively.

"Oh," returned Jewel abashed. "He told me Zeke." She still stood in the middle of the large white room, Anna Belle in her arms, and with the surprised look in her serious face drew upon herself an unflattering mental comment.

"The image of Harry," thought Mrs. Forbes.

"Can I see aunt Madge and cousin Eloise?" asked the child, beginning to feel some awe of the large woman regarding her.

"They're getting ready to go out to lunch. They can't be disturbed now. You can sit here, or walk around until lunch time. You'll know when that is ready, because the gong will sound in the hall. Now when you go downstairs be careful not to touch the tall clock on the landing. That is a very valuable chiming clock, and you mustn't open its doors, for fear you would break something. Then if you go into the parlor you must never play on the piano unless you ask somebody, for fear Mr. Evringham might be trying to take a nap just at that time; then you mustn't go into the barn without permission, for it's dangerous where the horses are, and you might get kicked. If you're tired from your journey you can lie down now till lunch time; but whenever you do lie down, be sure to turn off this white spread, for fear you might soil it. Now I'm very busy, and I shan't see you again till lunch."

Mrs. Forbes departed and Jewel stood for half a minute motionless, feeling rather dazed by a novel sensation of resentment.

"As if we were babies!" she whispered to her doll. "She's the most afraid woman I ever saw, and she looks so sorry! She isn't our relation, so no matter, dearie, what she says. This is father's room, and we can think how he used to run around here when he was a little boy."

Tiptoeing to the door, Jewel closed it and began to inspect her new apartment.

The sweet smelling soap on the marble stand, the silver mountings of the faucets, the large fine towels, the empty closet and drawers, all looked inviting. Throughout her examination the little girl kept pausing to listen.

Surely aunt Madge and cousin Eloise would look in before they went out to their engagement. Mother had so often said how nice it was that they were there. Surely they didn't know that she had arrived. That was it, of course; and Mrs. Forbes was so sorry and anxious she would probably forget to tell them.

Some altercation was just then going on in the apartments of those ladies.

"We ought to speak to her before we go," said Mrs. Evringham persuasively. "Father would probably resent it if we didn't."

"I have told you already," returned Eloise, "that I do not intend doing one thing henceforward that grandfather could interpret as being done to please him."

"But that is carrying it ridiculously far, not to greet your cousin, who has come from a journey and is your guest."

"My guest!" returned the girl derisively. "We are hers more likely. I will not go to her. The sooner grandfather sends us away the better."

Mrs. Evringham looked worried.

"This is mania, Eloise!" she returned coaxingly. "Very well, I shall go and speak to the child. She shan't be able to tell her grandfather of any rudeness."

In a few minutes Jewel, sitting by her window, Anna Belle in her lap, heard the frou-frou of skirts in the hall, and with a knock at the door, a lady entered. She was arrayed in a thin black gown and wore a large black hat, that was very becoming.

Jewel's admiration went out to her on the instant and she started up.

The lady swept toward her, and bending, a delicate perfume wafted about Jewel as she felt a light touch of lips on her cheek.

"So this is Julia Evringham," said the newcomer.

"And you are aunt Madge," returned the child gladly, clinging to the gloved hand, which endured for a moment, and then firmly disengaged itself.

"Your father and mother got off all right I hope?" went on the airy voice. "I'm always afraid of winds at this season myself, but they may not have them. Your cousin Eloise and I are hurrying away to a luncheon, but we shall see you at dinner. You're very comfortable here? That's right. Good-bye."

She swept away, and the light again faded from Jewel's face as she went slowly back to her seat.

"Aunt Madge is afraid, too," she said to the doll. "We know there won't be winds, don't we, dearie? God will take care of father and mother."

An uncomfortable lump rose towards the child's throat.

Mrs. Evringham followed Eloise into the brougham, smiling.

"It couldn't be better," she announced with much satisfaction as they drove away.

"What?"

"She is plain—oh, plain as possible. Small eyes, large mouth, insignificant nose. She will never get on with father. He never could endure ugliness in a girl or woman. I have heard him say it was unpardonable. If it hadn't been that we were what we are, Eloise, I should never have dreamed of doing as I have done. Now if only some good fairy would open your eyes to see which side your bread is buttered on! You could do marvels with such a foil for contrast."



CHAPTER VII

THE FIRST EVENING

In the excitement of the early morning start, Jewel had eaten little breakfast, but the soft resonance of the Japanese gong, when it sounded in the hall below, found her unready for food.

However, she judged the mellow sound to be her summons and obediently left her seat by the window. As she went down she looked askance at the tall dark clock which, even as she passed, chimed the half hour melodiously. Certainly her important grandfather lived in a wonderful house. She paused to hear the last notes of the bells, but catching sight of the figure of Mrs. Forbes waiting below, she started and moved on.

"That's right. Come along," said the housekeeper. "Mr. Evringham likes everybody to be punctual in his house."

"Oh, has grandpa come home?" inquired Jewel eagerly.

"No, he won't be home for hours yet. Come this way."

The little girl followed to the dining-room, which she thought quite as wonderful as the clock; but her admiration of all she saw was no longer unmixed. Mrs. Forbes seemed to cast a shadow.

One place was laid at the table, one handsome chair was drawn up to it. Jewel longed to call Anna Belle's attention to the glittering array on the sideboard and behind the crystal doors of cabinets, but something withheld her.

She looked questioningly at the housekeeper. "I think I'll draw up another chair for Anna Belle," she said.

Mrs. Forbes had already decided, from small signs of assurance, that this Western child was bold. "Give her an inch, and she'll take an ell," she had said to herself. "I know her sort."

"Do you mean the doll?" she returned. "Put it down anywhere. You must never bring it to the table. Mr. Evringham wouldn't like it."

In silence Jewel seated the doll in the nearest chair against the wall, and as she slid up into her own, a neat maid appeared with a puffy and appetizing omelet.

Mrs. Forbes filled the child's glass with water, and the maid set down the omelet and departed.

Jewel's heart sank while Mrs. Forbes presented the souffle.

"I'm sorry," she began hesitatingly, "I never—I can't"—then she swallowed hard in her desperate plight. "Isn't it pretty?" she said rather breathlessly.

"It's very good," returned the housekeeper briefly, misconstruing the child's hesitation. "Shall I help you?"

"I—could I have a drink of milk? I don't—I don't eat eggs."

"Don't eat eggs?" repeated the housekeeper severely. "I'm sorry you have been allowed to be notional. Children should eat what is set before them. Taste of it."

"I—I couldn't, please." Jewel's face was averted.

Mrs. Forbes touched an electric bell. The maid reappeared. "Remove the omelet, Sarah, and bring Miss Julia a glass of milk."

That was the order, but oh, the tone of it! Jewel's heart beat a little faster as she took some bread and butter and drank the milk, Mrs. Forbes standing by, a portentous, solemn, black-robed figure, awful in its silence.

When the child set down the glass empty, she started to push back her chair.

"Wait," said Mrs. Forbes laconically. She again touched an electric bell. The maid reappeared, removed the bread and milk and served a dainty dessert of preserved peaches, cream, and cake.

"I've really had enough," said Jewel politely.

"Don't you eat peaches and cream, or cake either?" asked Mrs. Forbes accusingly.

"Yes'm," returned the child, and ate them without further ado.

"Your trunk has come," said Mrs. Forbes when at last Jewel slipped down from the table. "I will come up and help you unpack it."

"If only she wouldn't!" thought the child as she lifted Anna Belle, but the housekeeper preceded her up the stairs, breathing rather heavily.

Sure enough, when they reached the white room, there stood the new trunk that had been packed with so much anticipation. The bright black letters on the side, J. E., had power even now to send a little glow of pride through its possessor. She stole a glance at Mrs. Forbes, but, strange as it may appear, the housekeeper gave no evidence of admiration.

"I don't need to trouble you, Mrs. Forbes. I can unpack it," said the child.

"I'm up here now, and anyway, I'd better show you where to keep your things. Where's your key?"

Jewel laid down the doll and opened her leather side-bag, producing the key tied with a little ribbon.

Mrs. Forbes unlocked the trunk, lifted out the tray, and began in a business-like manner to dispose of the small belongings that had last been handled so tenderly.

"Mrs. Harry certainly knows how to pack," ran her thoughts, "and she'd naturally know how to sew. These things are as neat as wax, and the child's well fixed." In the tray, among other things, were a number of doll's clothes, some writing materials, a box of different colored hair ribbons, and a few books.

"Glad to see a Bible," thought Mrs. Forbes. "Shows Mrs. Harry is respectable." She glanced at the three other books. One was a copy of "Heidi," one was "Alice in Wonderland," and the third a small black book with the design of a cross and crown in gilt on the cover. Mrs. Forbes looked from this up at the child.

"What's this? Some kind of a daily book, Julia?"

"I—yes, I read it every day."

"Well, I hope you'll be faithful now your mother's gone. She's taken the trouble to put it in."

Jewel's eyes had caught a glimpse of green color. Eagerly she reached down into the trunk and drew out carefully a dress in tiny checks of green and white.

"That's my silk dress," she said, regarding it fondly.

"It is very neatly made," returned Mrs. Forbes repressively. "It doesn't matter at all what little girls have on if they are clean and neat. It only matters that they shall be obedient and good."

Jewel regarded her with the patience which children exercise toward the inevitable. "I'd like to fix Anna Belle's drawer myself," she said modestly.

"Very well, you may. Now here are your shoes and slippers, but I don't find any rubbers."

"No, I never wear rubbers."

"What? Doesn't it rain in Chicago?"

"Oh yes indeed, it rains."

"Then you must get your feet wet. I think you better have had rubbers than a silk dress! What was your mother thinking of?"

Jewel sighed vaguely. She wondered how soon Mrs. Forbes would go away.

This happy event occurred before long, and the little girl amused herself for a while with rearranging somewhat the closet and drawers. Then putting on her hat and taking her doll with her, she stole quietly down the thickly carpeted stairs, and opening the heavy hall door, went out upon the piazza. It was sheltered from the wind, and wicker chairs were scattered about. Jewel looked off curiously amid the trees to where she knew, by her father's description, she should find, after a few minutes' ramble, the ravine and brook. Pretty soon she would wander out there. Just now the sun was warm here, and the roomy chairs held out inviting arms. The child climbed into one of them. Father would come back here some happy day and find her. The thought brought a smile, and with the smile on her lips, her head fell back against a yielding cushion, and in a minute she had fallen asleep. Anna Belle toppled over backward. Her plumed hat was pushed rakishly askew, but little she cared. Her eyelids had fallen, too.

Mrs. Evringham and Eloise, returning late from their luncheon, came upon the little sleeping figure as they walked around the long piazza.

"There she is!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham softly, putting up her lorgnette. "Behold your rival!"

Eloise regarded the sleeper without curiosity.

"At least she has not come uninvited," was her only comment.

"But she has come unwelcome, my dear," returned Mrs. Evringham with relish. "Just wait until our gracious host realizes what he has let himself in for. Oh, there's a good time coming, you may be sure. Hush, don't waken her! It would be a blessed dispensation if she were always to sleep while her grandfather is absent," and Mrs. Evringham led the way into the house, her laces fluttering.

On the first landing the ladies met Mrs. Forbes, troubled of countenance.

"I am looking for the child Julia," she said. "I can't think where she can have disappeared."

"You've not far to seek," returned Mrs. Evringham airily. "She is asleep on the piazza."

"Thank you." Mrs. Forbes hastened downstairs and out of doors. Glancing about she quickly perceived the short legs stretched in a reclining chair, and advanced toward the relaxed little figure.

"Julia, wake up!" she said, touching her.

The child stirred and opened her eyes. Her movement made the doll slip to the floor, and this caused her to come to herself suddenly.

"Why, I fell asleep, didn't I?" she said drowsily, reaching for the doll.

"Yes, and in Mr. Evringham's own chair!" responded Mrs. Forbes.

"They're all his, aren't they?" asked the child.

"Yes, but this is his special favorite, where he always lies to rest. Remember!" returned Mrs. Forbes. "Come right upstairs now and change your dress for dinner. He will be coming home in a few minutes."

"Oh, good!" exclaimed Jewel with satisfaction, and passed into the house. Mrs. Forbes was following ponderously. "Oh, you don't need to come with me," protested the child earnestly. "I can do it all myself."

"Are you sure?" doubtfully.

"Oh, ye—es!" replied the little girl, running lightly up the stairs.

"I ought to put her on the second floor," mused Mrs. Forbes, "if I've got to be running up and down; but I suppose she has done for herself a great deal. I suppose the mother hadn't time to be bothered. I'd like to make Mamzell change rooms with her."

Jewel hummed a tune as she took off her sailor suit, performed her ablutions, and then went to her closet to choose a frock for dinner. She decided on a blue dress with white dots chiefly because she would not have to change her hair ribbons. She had never herself tied those voluminous bows.

At last she was ready and danced toward the door, but some novel timidity made her hesitate and go back sedately to the chair by the window. Mrs. Forbes's impressive figure seemed to loom up with an order to her to wait the summons of the gong.

She sat there for what seemed a very long time, and at last a knock sounded at the door. Perhaps grandpa had come up. Jewel flew to open to him—and saw the white capped maid who had appeared at luncheon.

"They are all at table, and Mr. Evringham wishes you to come down," she said.

"But I was waiting for the gong."

"We only have that at noon."

Jewel's feet flew down the stairs. Her grandfather had sent for her. She was eager to reach him, yet when she entered the dining-room, her little face all alight, it was not so easy to run to him as she had fancied.

He sat stiffly at the foot of the table. Opposite him was aunt Madge, and at her left sat the prettiest young lady the child had ever seen.

Mrs. Forbes stood near Mr. Evringham, looking very serious.

Jewel took in all this at a glance, and contenting herself with greeting her grandfather's lifted eyes with a smile, she ran to Mrs. Evringham and turned her back.

"There's just one button in the middle, aunt Madge, that I can't reach," she explained softly.

Every eye at the table was regarding the child curiously, but she took no note of any one but her grandfather, and her dress buttoned, she ran to her chair and slid up on its smooth morocco. Eloise observed the little girl's loving expression.

"I am sorry you are late, Julia," said Mr. Evringham.

"Yes, so am I, grandpa," was the prompt response. "I wanted to be down here as soon as you came home, but I thought I ought to wait for the gong, and then it didn't ring."

Her eyes roved to where, directly opposite, the beautiful young lady was regarding her soberly.

Mrs. Evringham spoke. "That is your cousin Eloise, Julia."

Eloise inclined her graceful head, but made no further recognition of the child's admiring look.

"They haven't met before?" said Mr. Evringham, looking from one to the other.

"No," returned Mrs. Evringham with her most gracious manner. "It just happened that Eloise and I were engaged at luncheon to-day, and when we returned the little girl was taking a nap."

By this time Mrs. Forbes had brought Jewel's soup and she was eating. She looked up brightly at Mr. Evringham.

"Yes, grandpa, I went to sleep in your big chair on the piazza. I didn't know it was your special chair until Mrs. Forbes waked me up."

Her grandfather regarded her from under his heavy brows. He was resenting the fact that Eloise had made no effort to welcome the child. "Indeed?" he returned. "What did she wake you up for?"

"Because it was time to get ready for dinner," returned Jewel. "It reminded me of the story of Golden Hair, when she had gone to sleep on the bear's bed, the way Mrs. Forbes said, 'This is your grandfather's chair!'"

She looked around the table, expectant of sympathy. Only Mrs. Evringham seemed to wish to laugh, and she was making heroic efforts not to do so. Lovely Eloise kept her serious eyes downcast.

"Ha!" ejaculated Mr. Evringham, after a lightning glance of suspicion at his daughter-in-law. "I think I remember something about that. But Golden Hair tried three beds, I believe."

"Yes, she did, but you see there wasn't any little bear's chair on the piazza."

"Very true. Very true."

"Golden Hair was a great beauty, I believe," suggested Mrs. Evringham, looking at the child oddly. "She had yellow hair like yours."

Jewel put up a quick hand to the short tight braid which ended behind her ear. "Oh no, long, lovely, floating hair. Don't you remember?"

"It's a good while since I read it," returned Mrs. Evringham, laughing low and glancing at Eloise. Her father-in-law sent her a look of displeasure and turned back to Jewel.

"Dr. Ballard found you on the train, I suppose?"

"Yes, grandpa. We had a nice time. He is a very kind man." The child glanced across at her cousin again. She wished cousin Eloise would lift her eyes and not look so sorry. "I wonder," she added aloud, "why Dr. Ballard called cousin Eloise a little girl."

No one spoke, so Mrs. Evringham broke the momentary silence. "Did he?" she asked.

"Yes, he said that my cousin Eloise was a very charming little girl."

Jewel wondered why Eloise flushed and looked still sorrier, and why aunt Madge raised her napkin and turned her laugh into a cough. Perhaps it teased young ladies to be called little girls. Jewel regretted having mentioned it.

"I guess he was just April-fooling me," she suggested comfortingly, and the insistence of her soft gaze was such that Eloise looked up and met a smile so irresistible, that in spite of herself, her expression relaxed.

The softened look was a relief to the child. "I've heard about you, of course, cousin Eloise," she said, "and I couldn't forget, because your name is so nice and—and slippery. Eloise Evringham. Eloise Evringham. It sounds just like—like—oh, like sliding down the banisters. Don't you think so?"

Eloise smiled a little. "I hadn't thought of it," she returned, then relapsed into quiet.

Mrs. Forbes's countenance was stony. "Children should be seen and not heard," was her doctrine, and this dressmaker's child had an assurance beyond belief. She seemed to feel no awe whatever in her grandfather's presence.

The housekeeper caught Jewel's eye and gave her such a quenching look that thenceforward the little girl succumbed to the silence which the others seemed to prefer.

After dinner she would have a good visit with grandpa and talk about when father was a little boy. Her hopes were dashed, for just as they were rising from the table, a man was announced, with whom Mr. Evringham closeted himself in the library.

In the drawing-room aunt Madge and cousin Eloise both set themselves at letter-writing, and entirely ignored Jewel. The child looked listlessly at a book with pictures, which she found on the table, until half-past eight, when Mrs. Forbes came to say it was time for her to go to bed.

She rose and stood a moment, turning hesitatingly from her aunt to her cousin.

"Oh, is it bedtime?" asked aunt Madge, looking up from her letter. "Good-night, Julia. I hope you'll sleep well." Then she returned to her writing.

Eloise bit her lip as she regarded the little girl with a moment's hesitation, but no, she had decided on her plan of action. Mrs. Forbes was observing her. Eloise knew the housekeeper's attitude toward them was defensive, if not offensive. "Good-night," she said briefly, and looked down again.

"Good-night," returned Jewel quietly, and went out.

In the hall she hesitated. "I want to say good-night to grandpa," she said.

"Well, you can't," returned Mrs. Forbes decidedly. "He is talking business and mustn't be disturbed."

She followed the child up the staircase.

"I could go to bed alone, if I only knew where the matches are."

"You said you could dress alone, but you had to ask Mrs. Evringham to button your frock. Remember after this that I am the one to ask. She and Miss Eloise don't want to be bothered."

"Is it a bother to do a kindness?" asked Jewel in a subdued tone.

"To some folks it is," was the response. They had reached the door of the child's room; "but some folks can see their duty and do it," she added virtuously.

Jewel realized regretfully that her present companion belonged to the latter class.

"Now here, right inside the door," proceeded Mrs. Forbes, "is the switch. There's electricity all over this house, and you don't need any matches. See?" Mrs. Forbes turned the switch and the white room was flooded with light.

A few hours ago this magic would have evoked much enthusiasm. Even now Jewel was pleased to turn the light on and off several times, as Mrs. Forbes told her to do.

"Now I'll see if you can undress yourself," said the housekeeper. Jewel's deft fingers flew over the buttons in her eagerness to prove her independence. When at last she stood in her little white nightgown, so neat and fine in its small decorations, Mrs. Forbes said, "Do you want me to hear you say your prayers?"

"No, I thank you." With her hasty response Jewel promptly jumped into the bed, from which the white spread had been removed.

"I hope you always say them," said Mrs. Forbes, regarding her undecidedly.

"Yes'm, I always do."

The child cuddled down under the covers with her face to the wall, lest Mrs. Forbes should see a further duty and do it.

"You ought to say them on your knees," continued the housekeeper.

"I'd just as lief," replied Jewel, "but I don't believe God cares."

"Well," returned Mrs. Forbes solemnly, "it is a matter for your own conscience, Julia, if your mother didn't train you to it. Good-night."

"Good-night," came faintly from beneath the bedclothes.

Mrs. Forbes turned off the light and went out, closing the door behind her.

"If she'd always speak when she's spoken to, and be quiet and modest as she is with me, she'd be a very well-behaved child," she soliloquized. "I could train her. I shouldn't wonder at all if her mother should see a great difference in her when she comes back."

The housekeeper went heavily downstairs. Jewel, pushing off the bedclothes, listened attentively to the retiring steps, and when they could no longer be heard, she jumped out of bed nimbly, and feeling for the electric switch, turned on the light. Her breath was coming rather unevenly, and she ran over the soft carpet to where her doll lay. Catching her up, she pressed her to her breast, then sitting down in the big chair, she began to undress her, crossing one little bare foot over the other knee to make a lap.

"Darling Anna Belle, did you think I'd forgotten you?" she asked breathlessly. "Did you think you weren't going to have any one to kiss you good-night? It's hard not to have any one you love kiss you good-night." Jewel dashed her hand across her eyes quickly, then went swiftly on with her work. "You might have known that I was only waiting until that—that giantess went away. She wouldn't let me bring you down to dinner, dearie, but you didn't miss anything. Poor grandpa, I don't wonder any longer that he doesn't look happy. He has the sorriest people all around him that you ever saw. He lives in a big, beautiful castle, but it's Castle Discord. I named it that at dinner. Nobody loves one another. Of course grandpa loves me, because I'm his own little grandchild, but he's too sorry to show it. The beautiful enchanted maiden, and the Error fairy, and the giantess, are all making discord around him. A little flat is better than a big castle, isn't it? We know a flat—let's call it Harmony Flat, Anna Belle. Perhaps if we're very, very, good, we'll get back there some time." Jewel suddenly pressed the doll's nightdress against her wet eyes. "Don't, don't, dearie! I know it does seem a year since—since the boat this morning. If all the days were as long as this, we'd be very, very old when father and mother come home." The soft voice broke in a sob. "I don't know what I should do if you weren't a Christian Scientist, Anna Belle. We'll help each other all we can. Now come—come into bed and say your prayers."

"Say your—your prayer first, dearie," she whispered, sobbing:—

"'Father, Mother, God, Loving me,— Guard me when I sleep; Guide my little feet Up to Thee.'

"Now you'll feel—better, dearie. In a minute you won't be so—homesick for—for—father and mother. Hush, while I say mine."

Jewel repeated the Lord's Prayer. When she had finished, her breath still caught convulsively, so she continued:—

"Dear Father, Mother, God, loving me, help me to know that I am close to Thee. Help me to remember that things that are unhappy aren't real things. Help me to know that everything is good and harmonious, and that the people in this castle are Thy children, even if they do seem to have eyes like fishes. Help me to love one another, even the giantess, and please show grandpa how to meet error. Please let Dr. Ballard come to see me soon, because he has kind eyes, and I'm sure he doesn't know it's wrong to believe in materia medica. Please take more care of father and mother than anything, and say 'Peace be still' if the wind blows the sea. I know, dear Father in Heaven, that Thou dost not forget anything, but I say it to make me feel better. I am Thy little Jewel, and Anna Belle loves Thee, too. Take us into the everlasting arms of Love while we go to sleep. Amen."

Jewel brushed away the tears as she ceased, and with her usual quickness of motion, jumped out of bed to get a handkerchief. Turning on the electric light, she went to the chair over which hung the dotted dress. She remembered having slipped a clean handkerchief into its pocket before going to dinner.

In reaching for it her fingers encountered a scrap of paper in the depths of the pocket. She drew it forth. It was folded. She opened it and found it written over in a clear round hand.

"Is my little darling loving every one around her? People do not always seem lovely at first, but remember that every one is lovable because he is a thought of God. Those who seem unlovely are always unhappy, too, in their hearts. We must help them, and the best way to help is to love. Mother is thinking about her little Jewel, and no seas can divide us."

A slow smile gladdened the child's tear-stained face. She read the message again, then turned out the light for the last time and cuddled down in bed, her warm cheek pressing the scrap of paper in her hand, her breath still catching.

"Mother has spoken to us, Anna Belle," she whispered, clasping the doll close. "Wasn't it just like God to let her!" Then she fell asleep smiling.



CHAPTER VIII

A HAPPY BREAKFAST

Mrs. Forbes was on the porch next morning when Mr. Evringham returned from his canter.

"Fine morning, Mrs. Forbes," he said, as he gave Essex Maid into Zeke's hands.

"Very fine. A regular weather breeder. It'll most probably rain to-morrow, and what I wanted to speak to you about, Mr. Evringham, is, that the child hasn't any rubbers."

"Indeed? What else does she need?"

"Well, nothing that I can see. Her things are all good, and she's got enough of them. The trouble is she says she has never worn rubbers and doesn't want to, and if she gets sick I shall have to take care of her; so I hope, sir, you'll say that she must have them."

"Not wear them? Of course she must wear them," returned Mr. Evringham brusquely. "Get them to-day, if convenient, Mrs. Forbes."

The housekeeper looked relieved.

"I hope she's not making you any trouble, eh?" added Mr. Evringham.

"Not any more than she can help, I suppose," was the grudging reply. "She's a smart child, and being an only one, she's some notional. She won't eat this and that, and doesn't want to wear rubbers, but she's handy and neat, and is used to doing for herself; her mother hasn't had time to fuss with her, of course, and that's lucky for me. She seems very well behaved, considering."

Jewel had made heroic efforts while Mrs. Forbes assisted at her morning toilet, and this was her reward.

"Well, we mustn't have you imposed upon," returned Mr. Evringham, feeling guilty of the situation. "The child must obey you implicitly, implicitly."

So saying he passed into the house, and after making a change in his toilet, entered the dining-room. There he was seated, deep in his newspaper and waiting for his coffee, when the door opened, light feet ran to him, and an arm was thrown around his neck. He looked up to meet a happy smile, and before he could realize who had captured him, Jewel pressed a fervent kiss upon his cheek.

"Oh, grandpa, how nice and cold your cheek feels! Have you been out doors already?"

Mr. Evringham could feel the said cheek grow hot in surprise at this onslaught. He held himself stiffly and uncomfortably in the encircling arm.

"Yes, I've been out on horseback," he returned shortly. "I go every morning."

Jewel's eyes sparkled. "Oh, I'm so glad. Then I can watch you. I love to see anybody ride. When I see a beautiful horse something inside me gets warm. Father says I like just the same things he does. I must let you read your paper, grandpa, but may I say one thing more?"

"Yes."

"I didn't come last evening to kiss you good-night because you had somebody with you in the library, and, the giant—and Mrs. Forbes wouldn't let me; but I wanted to. You know I wanted to, don't you? I felt all sorry inside because I couldn't. You know you're the only real relation I have in the castle"—Here Mrs. Forbes's entrance with the coffee interrupted the confidence, and Jewel, with a last surreptitious squeeze of Mr. Evringham's neck, intended to finish her sentence eloquently, left him and went to her chair.

"You're to sit here this morning," said Mrs. Forbes, indicating the place opposite her employer. "Mrs. Evringham and her daughter don't come down to breakfast."

Jewel looked up eagerly. "Not ever?" she asked.

"Never."

The child shot a radiant glance across at her grandfather which he caught, the thread of his business calculations having been hopelessly broken. "Oh, grandpa, we're always going to have breakfast alone together!" she said joyously. Noting Mrs. Forbes's set countenance, she added apologetically, "They're so pretty, cousin Eloise and aunt Madge, I love to look at them, but they aren't my real relations, and," her face gladdening again, "to think of having breakfast alone with you, grandpa, makes me feel as if—as if I had a birthday!"

Mr. Evringham cleared his throat. The situation might have been a little easier if Mrs. Forbes had not been present, but as it was, he had never felt so embarrassed in his life.

"Now eat your oatmeal, Julia," said the housekeeper repressively. "Mr. Evringham always reads his paper at breakfast."

"Yes," replied the child with docility. She poured the cream from a small silver pitcher with a neatness that won Mrs. Forbes's approval; and Mr. Evringham read over headlines in the paper, while he sipped his coffee, without understanding in the least the meaning of the words. Mrs. Forbes was right. Discipline must be maintained. This was the time during which he wished to read his paper, and it was most astonishing to be so vigorously taken possession of by an utter stranger. Now was the time to repress her if she were to be repressed. Mrs. Forbes was right. After a while he glanced across at the child. She looked very small and clean, and she was ready with a quick smile for him; but she put a little forefinger against her lips jocosely. He cleared his throat again and averted his eyes, rumpling the paper as he turned a leaf.

Mrs. Forbes left the room with the oatmeal dishes.

Jewel leaned forward quickly. "Grandpa," she said earnestly, "if you would declare every day, over and over, that no error could come near your house, I think she would go away of her own accord."

Mr. Evringham stared, open paper in hand. "What? Who?"

"Mrs. Forbes."

"Go away? Mrs. Forbes? What are you thinking of! I couldn't get on without Mrs. Forbes."

"Oh!" Jewel leaned back with the long-drawn exclamation. "I thought she was what made you look sorry."

"No indeed. I have enough things to make me sorry, but she isn't one of them."

"Do you like her?" wonderingly.

"I—why—I respect her profoundly."

"Oh! It must be lots easier to respect her pro—the way you do, than to like her; but," with firm lips, "I've got to love her. I told Anna Belle so this morning, and especially if you want her to stay."

"Bless my soul!" Mr. Evringham looked in dismay as his vis-a-vis. "You must be very careful, Julia, not to offend or trouble her in any way," he said.

"All right, grandpa, I will, and then will you do me a favor too?"

"I must hear it first."

"Would you mind calling me Jewel? You know it isn't any matter about the rest, because they're not my real relations, but Julia is mother's name, and Jewel is mine; and when I love people very much, I like them to call me Jewel."

Mrs. Forbes here entered with a tray, and Mr. Evringham merely said, "Very well," twice over, and retreated into his newspaper.

On the tray were boiled eggs. Jewel glanced quickly up at Mrs. Forbes's impassive face. She might have remembered. Probably she did remember.

Life had not taught the child to be shy, as has been evidenced; so although Mrs. Forbes was an awing experience, she felt strong in the presence of her important grandfather, and only kept silence now in order not to interrupt his reading.

When at last he laid down his paper and began to chip an egg, Jewel glanced at those which Mrs. Forbes had set before her. Her little face had grown very serious.

"Grandpa, do you think it's error for me not to like eggs?" she asked. "Mother never said it was. She was willing I should eat something else."

"Of course, eat whatever you like," responded Mr. Evringham quickly.

Mrs. Forbes seemed to swell and grow pink. "You always have eggs, sir, and if there's two breakfasts to be got, will you kindly tell me what the other shall be?"

Mr. Evringham glanced up in some surprise at the unfamiliar tone.

"Oh, the oatmeal is a plenty," said Jewel, looking at the housekeeper, eager to mollify her.

"Try an egg. Perhaps you'll like them by this time," suggested Mr. Evringham.

"Do you like everything to eat, grandpa?"

Mr. Evringham, being most arbitrary and peculiar in his tastes, could only gain time by clearing his throat again, and taking a drink of coffee.

"Mrs. Forbes will bring you a glass of milk, I dare say," he returned at last, without looking up; and the housekeeper turned with ponderous obedience and left the room.

Nimbly Jewel slid down from her chair, and running around the table to her grandfather's place, put both her arms around his neck and whispered to him eagerly and swiftly, "If you have such a pro—something respect for Mrs. Forbes, and it makes her sorry because I won't eat eggs, perhaps I ought to. If it offends thy brother to have you eat meat, you mustn't, the Bible says, so I suppose, if it makes Mrs. Forbes turn red and perhaps get the stomach ache to have me not eat eggs, I ought to; but grandpa, if you decide I must, please let me wait till to-morrow morning, so I can say the Scientific Statement of Being all day—"

Here Mrs. Forbes entered with a glass of milk on a little tray. She stood transfixed at the sight that met her.

"That child hasn't the fear of man before her eyes!" she ejaculated mentally, then she marched forward and deposited the milk beside Jewel's empty plate, while the child ran back and took her seat.

Mr. Evringham, gazing at his visitor in mute astonishment, was much disconcerted to receive a confiding gesture of raised shoulders and eyebrows, which, combined with a little smile, plainly signified that they had been caught. He took up his newspaper mechanically.

He had never had a daughter, and caresses had seldom passed between him and his children. His duties as a family man had always been perfunctory. He was tingling now from the surprise of Jewel's action, the feeling of the little gingham clad arms about his neck, the touch of the rose-leaf skin as she swept his cheek and ear in her emphatic half-whisper.

His mental processes were stiff when the subject related to things apart from the stock market, his horses, and golf, but he was finally understanding that his granddaughter had come to Bel-Air, prepared by accounts which had cast a glamour over everything and everybody in it. She had evidently found Mrs. Forbes fall below her expectations. He had been disillusioned concerning Mrs. Evringham and Eloise. As yet the halo with which he himself had been invested was intact. Was it to remain so? He still saw how foolish he had been to send for the child. He still wished, of course, that she was in Chicago now, instead of sitting across there from him in crisp short skirts, her head and shoulders only showing above the high table, and a little smile of good understanding waiting for him each time he looked up.

He had done very well during a lifetime without being hugged, yet the innocent incense, which had been rising spontaneously before him ever since the child entered the dining-room, had a strangely sweet savor. Such was the joy of breakfast alone with him that it made her feel as if she had a birthday! Perfectly absurd! Quite the most absurd thing that he had ever heard in his life.

Mrs. Forbes spoke. "Perhaps it is to be the same way about the rubbers, Mr. Evringham!" she said, much flushed. "Perhaps you will not insist upon Julia wearing rubbers!"

"Oh yes, yes, certainly," returned Mr. Evringham hastily, anxious to reinstate himself. "I wish you to have a pair of rubbers at once, Julia—Jewel. You surely don't mean that your mother has allowed you to wet your feet."

"I—I never noticed, grandpa, but," hopefully, "she lets me wet my hands, so why not my feet?"

"Bless me, what ignorance! Because the soles of your feet have large pores through which to catch cold. Hasn't any one ever told you that?"

Jewel smiled. "That would be a queer arrangement for God to make, don't you think?" she asked softly. "Just as if He expected us to walk on our hands."

Mrs. Forbes's eyes widened, and an irrepressible "Well!" escaped from her lips. "Has that young one reverence for anything in heaven above or earth beneath?" she queried mentally.

Mr. Evringham managed to recover himself sufficiently to say, "You shouldn't speak so, Jewel."

"But you know how it was about the tree of knowledge, grandpa," replied the child earnestly. "God told Adam not to eat of it, because then he'd believe in good and evil, and that always makes such lots and lots of trouble. The Indians don't have to wear rubbers."

"Drink your milk, Jewel," returned Mr. Evringham uncomfortably, not having the temerity to lift his eyes as high as his housekeeper's countenance. "No matter about the Indians. You are a civilized little girl, and you must wear rubbers while you live with me. Mrs. Forbes will very kindly buy them for you."

"Oh, I have money," returned Jewel brightly. "I have three dollars," she added, trying not to say it boastfully. "Fifty cents for every week father and mother are going to be away."

Mr. Evringham wiped his mustache. "You need not spend any of it for the rubbers," he returned. "You are buying those to please me."

"I shall love to wear them to please you, grandpa," she returned affectionately. "I'll put them on every time I can think of it."

"Only when it is wet, of course," he said. "When it is rainy."

"Oh yes," she returned, "when it's rainy."

"Harry looked like my father, and she does, by Jove," mused Mr. Evringham. "She's like me. Knows what she wants to eat, and cares for a horse, if she is a strange little being."

"You say you like horses?" he remarked suddenly.

"I just love them," answered Jewel, "and I came real close to them once. Father took me to the horse show."

"He did, eh?"

"Yes, he told mother he was going to blow me to it." The child laughed. "Father's the greatest joker; he says the funniest things. He didn't blow me to it at all. He took me in the cable car, and we had more fun! It was the most be—eautiful place you ever saw."

"It was, eh?"

"Yes. The music was playing, and there were coaches and four-in-hands and horns and men in red coats and beautiful little shiny carriages—and the horses! Oh, they all looked so proud and glad, and they trotted and ran and jumped over high fences, and the harness jingled and the people cheered!" The child's cheeks were glowing.

Mr. Evringham gave an exclamation that was almost a laugh. "You didn't sleep much that night, I'll wager!"

"No, I didn't want to. I stayed awake a long time to realize that God doesn't love one of His children any better than another, so of course some time I'll wear a tall shiny hat and ride over fences just like flying. I'll have a horse," Jewel added slowly, looking off with a rapt expression as at a long-cherished vision, "with a white star in his forehead!"

"H'm! Very good taste," returned Mr. Evringham, scarcely knowing what he was saying, so dazed was he by the extraordinary mixture of ideas.

After breakfast he had his usual interview with Mrs. Forbes concerning the important event of dinner. Jewel had run upstairs to dress Anna Belle.

The menu decided upon, Mr. Evringham still lingered.

"Mrs. Forbes, I have never had any experience with little girls. You have, no doubt," he said. "Am I right in thinking that my granddaughter is—is a rather unusual specimen?"

"She's older than Dick's hatband, sir," rejoined the housekeeper promptly.

"Are they, perhaps, teaching differently in the schools from what they used to?"

"Not that I know of, Mr. Evringham."

"She uses very unusual expressions. I can't make it out. You are an intelligent woman, Mrs. Forbes. Did you ever happen to hear of such a thing as the—a—a—Scientific Statement of Being!"

"Never in my life, sir," returned the housekeeper virtuously.

"Extraordinary language that, from a—a child of her years. She seems to have been peculiarly brought up. You heard her reference to—in fact to—the Creator."

"I did, sir. At the breakfast table, too! I was as shocked as you were, sir. Her mother put a Bible into her trunk, but it's plain she never taught her any reverence. The Almighty give her a jumping horse indeed! If you'll excuse me, Mr. Evringham, I think you should have said something right there."

The broker pulled his mustache. "I've listened to more unreasonable views of heaven," he returned.

"Do you think it was heaven she was talking about!"

Mr. Evringham shrugged his shoulders. "You can't prove anything by me. She's the most extraordinary child I ever listened to."

Mrs. Forbes pursed her lips. "You'd not believe, sir, how differently she behaves when she is alone with me. As mild-mannered and quiet as you'd wish to see anywhere. She scarcely speaks a word."

Mr. Evringham bit his lip and nodded. It gave him some amusement in the midst of his perplexity to remember the manner in which he had been advised to exorcise this tower of strength altogether.

"It's my opinion, sir, that children should be made to eat what is set before them," went on Mrs. Forbes, reverting to her principal grievance.

"It would save you a lot of trouble if I had been trained that way—eh, Mrs. Forbes?" returned the other, with extraordinary lightness.

"You are a very different thing, I should hope!" exclaimed Mrs. Forbes solemnly.

"Yes, about fifty years different. Hard to teach an old dog new tricks, eh? You might have some chops for her luncheon, perhaps, and an extra one for her breakfast. She hasn't eaten anything this morning."

For the first time an order from Mr. Evringham evoked no reply from his housekeeper. He felt the weight of her disapproval. "But get the overshoes by all means, as soon as convenient," he made haste to add. "Ring for Zeke, if you please, Mrs. Forbes. I must be off."



CHAPTER IX

A SHOPPING EXPEDITION

The housekeeper warned Jewel not to run out of doors that morning as she wished to accompany her to the shoe store.

"I'm not going to take you, Anna Belle," Jewel said to her doll. "I don't like to ask the giantess if I may, and of course, it won't be a very good time anyway, so you be patient and we'll go out together this afternoon."

Mrs. Forbes's long widow's veil, a decoration she never had discarded hung low over her black gown as she stepped deliberately down the stairs from her barn chamber.

"I am going with the little girl, Zeke, to buy her a pair of rubbers," she announced to her son.

"Going foot-back? Why don't you have out the 'broom'? One granddaughter's got as good a right to it as the other, hasn't she?"

"I should say so, but that child, Zeke, in addition to her wonderful boldness this morning with Mr. Evringham, that I told you about, is perfectly crazy over horses."

"H'm. That don't surprise me. A young one that can stand up to the governor wouldn't be afraid of anything in the way of horseflesh."

"So I decided," continued Mrs. Forbes, pulling on her roomy black gloves, "that it would be better for her to go this morning in the trolley."

"You did? Well if that ain't a regular step-mother act!" returned Zeke in protest. "The kid had a bully time coming home from the depot yesterday. Dick felt good, and he just lit out. I tell you her eyes shone."

"I like to do what's best for folks in the end," declared Mrs. Forbes virtuously. "Julia's parents are poor, and likely to be. She's only going to be here six weeks, and what is the sense of encouraging a taste she can't ever indulge? No, I'll take her in the trolley. It's a nice morning, and I shan't mind the walk down to the gate." The speaker marched with the dignity which was always inseparable from the veil toward the back door of the house to give some last orders, and Zeke lounged out with his rake toward the grounds at the front. There he caught sight of a small figure in hat and jacket waiting on the piazza. He turned toward it, and Jewel advanced with a smile of recognition. She had had to look twice to identify her fine plum-colored companion of yesterday's drive with this youth in shirt sleeves and a soft old hat.

"Well, little girl, how are you getting on?" he asked.

"Pretty well, thank you." Her beaming expression left no doubt that she was very glad to see him.

"Not particularly flattering if she is," he mused. "Fine ladies not out of their rooms yet, and ma doin' her duty by her to beat the band."

"Where's your doll?" he asked.

"I didn't bring her. I thought perhaps the—Mrs. Forbes would—would just as lief she didn't come."

"Ma hasn't played with dolls for quite a spell," agreed Zeke, with a smile that was sunshine to the child.

"You live out in the barn with the horses, don't you?" she asked eagerly. "Will you give me permission to go out there some time?"

"Sure. Come any time."

"Mrs. Forbes said I must ask permission," responded the child with an apprehensive glance behind her to see if her escort were arriving. "What—what is your name?"

"Forgotten this soon? I told you Zeke."

"I thought you did, but your mother said it was something very different."

"Ezekiel, perhaps."

"Yes, that's it. I won't forget again. How many horses has grandpa?"

"Two here, but I guess he's got more in the country. You come out to the barn any time you feel like it. You've heard of a bell cow, haven't you? Well, we've got the belle horse out there. She beats all creation."

"The one I saw yesterday," eagerly, "the one that runs away all the time?"

"No. This is Mr. Evringham's riding horse."

Jewel hopped and clapped her hands. "I'll see grandpa ride. Goody! I'll watch him."

"Go to your paths, Zeke," said a voice, and the veil appeared around the corner of the house.

Jewel quietly joined her stately companion, and walked away sedately beside her.

They did not exchange many words on their way to the park gates, for Mrs. Forbes needed her breath for the rather long promenade, and Jewel was busy looking at the trees and trim swards and crocus beds beside the winding road.

Outside the gate they had to wait but a minute before the car came, and after they had boarded it, the little girl was entertained by looking out of the window, and often wished for Anna Belle's sympathy in some novel sight or sound.

A ride of fifteen minutes brought them to the shoe store. Mrs. Forbes seemed to know the clerk, and Jewel was finally fitted to her guardian's satisfaction, but scarcely to her own, the housekeeper having selected the species known as storm rubbers, and chose them as large as would stay on.

"They're quite warm, aren't they?" said Jewel, looking down at her shiny feet and trying to speak cheerfully.

"When you wear them you want to be warm," was Mrs. Forbes's rejoinder.

"I brought my money," said the child, in a low voice.

"No. Your grandfather wishes to make you a present of these." The housekeeper's tone was final, and she paid for the overshoes, which were wrapped up, and then she led Jewel out of the store.

Next door was a candy shop with alluring windows.

"I'd like to go in here," said the little girl. "Would you mind?"

"Do you spend your money for candy, Julia?"

"Yes'm. Don't you like it?" Jewel lingered, looking at the pretty display. Easter had recently passed, and there were bright-eyed little yellow chickens that especially took her fancy.

"It isn't a question of liking it when people are poor," returned Mrs. Forbes. "I'm astonished that your mother encourages you to spend money for candy."

Jewel looked up quickly. "Did you think we were poor?" she asked, with disconcerting suddenness.

Mrs. Forbes hesitated. "Your mother is a dressmaker, isn't she?"

"Yes, she's just a splendid one. Everybody says so. We couldn't be poor, you know. She found out about God before I was old enough to talk, so you see all her poor time came before I can remember."

The housekeeper glanced about her furtively. "Julia, don't you know you shouldn't use your Creator's name on the street!" she exclaimed, when she had made certain that no one was listening.

"Why not?" asked the child.

"Why—why—it isn't a proper place. Some one might hear you."

"Well, won't you let me get some candy now? If I knew what kind you liked, Mrs. Forbes, I'd get it."

"I don't eat candy as a rule. It's not only extravagant, it's very unhealthy."

The little girl smiled. "How do you suppose your stomach knows what you put into it?" she asked. "I guess you're just a little—bit—afraid, aren't you?"

"Odder than Dick's hatband!" quoth Mrs. Forbes again, mentally. "I take horehound drops sometimes," she said aloud, "for a cold."

"Can't you sneeze a little now?" asked Jewel, amusement twinkling in her blue eyes. "I do want so much to go in here."

"Don't tempt Providence by making fun of sickness, Julia, or you'll live to regret it," returned Mrs. Forbes. "I don't mind getting some horehound drops, but be careful now and don't spend too much. A little girl's money always burns in her pocket."

"Yes'm," returned the child dutifully, skipping up to the door of the shop and opening it.

Mrs. Forbes followed slowly, and once inside, fell into conversation with the girl of whom she bought the cough candy. This gave Jewel opportunity to buy beside her caramels one of the lovely yellow chickens, which she designed for a special purpose.

"Now don't you eat that candy before lunch. It will take away your appetite. It is nearly lunch time now," said Mrs. Forbes as they left the store.

"And won't you either?" asked the child, offering the open caramel bag with a spontaneous politeness which somehow made the housekeeper feel at a disadvantage.

"No, thank you. Stop that car, Julia, and make them wait for me," she said, making haste slowly.

Once within, it took Mrs. Forbes a minute or two to get her breath, but she soon noticed that her companion's eyes were fixed upon a man seated a little way from them across the car. A smile kept coming to the child's lips, and at last the gentleman himself recognized that he was an object of interest. He looked at the strange little girl kindly. Her hand went unconsciously to the small gold pin she wore. The man smiled and touched one of similar pattern which was fastening his tie. In a minute more his street was reached, and as he passed Jewel on his way out of the car, he stooped and gave her ready hand a little pressure.

She colored with pleasure, and Mrs. Forbes swelled with curiosity and disapproval. She knew the man by sight as a highly respectable citizen. What was this wild Western child doing now? The car made too much noise to permit of investigation, so she waited until they had left it and entered the park gates.

"Julia," she said then, "where did you ever see that gentleman before?"

"I never did," replied the child.

"What do you mean by such bold actions, then? What will he think of you?"

"He'll think it's all right," returned Jewel. "We have the same—the same friends."

The housekeeper looked at her. It was beneath her dignity to ask further questions at present, but some time she meant to renew the subject.

"It's very wrong for a little girl to take any notice of strangers," she said.

"Yes'm," replied Jewel, "but he was—different."

Mrs. Forbes maintained silence henceforth until they reached home. "You may hang your hat and jacket in the closet under the stairs whenever you don't wish to go to your room," she said when she parted with her companion at the piazza, "but don't wander away anywhere before lunch."

"No'm. Thank you for taking me, Mrs. Forbes."

"You're welcome," returned that lady, and the long black veil swept majestically toward the barn.

Sweet and rippling music was proceeding from the house. Jewel tiptoed across the piazza to a long window, from whence she could see the interior of the drawing-room.

"It is the enchanted maiden," she said to herself, and sank down softly by the window, listening eagerly to the melodious strains and smooth runs which flowed from beneath the slender fingers. One piece followed another in quick succession, now gay, now grave, and the listener scarcely stirred in her enjoyment.

At last, suddenly, in the midst of a Grieg melody, the player ceased, and crossing her arms upon the empty music rack, bowed her head upon them in such an attitude of abandon that Jewel's heart leaped in sympathy.

"Oh cousin Eloise! What makes her so sorry?" she thought. The child's intuition had been strong to perceive the nature of her aunt Madge. "It must be such an awful thing to have your own mother an error fairy. That must be the reason. I wish I could tell her"—Jewel jumped to her feet, but just as she was determining to go to her cousin, the soft-toned gong pealed its mellow summons, and she saw Eloise rise from the piano in time to meet her mother, who at that moment entered the room.

Jewel went into the house, hung up her hat and jacket, and deposited her packages. By the time she reached the dining-room her aunt and cousin were already seated. Mrs. Evringham put up her lorgnette as she greeted the child. Eloise nodded a grave good-morning, and Mrs. Forbes began to serve the luncheon.

Jewel looked in vain for any trace of excitement or tears on her cousin's lovely face. Eloise did not address her or any one. Mrs. Evringham did the talking. After a question as to how Jewel had spent the morning, and without listening to the child's reply, she began to talk to her daughter of a drive she wished to take that afternoon.

Jewel discerned that Mrs. Forbes was not kindly disposed toward the mother and daughter, and that they ignored the housekeeper; that Eloise was languid and out of sympathy with her mother, and that Mrs. Evringham was impatient with her, often to the verge of sharpness. The child was glad when luncheon was over; but before going upstairs she brought her small bag of caramels and offered them to the ladies.

Mrs. Evringham gave a little laugh of surprise and looked at Eloise, who took one with a sober "Thank you."

"I don't believe I could, child," said aunt Madge, glancing with amusement at the striped bag. "Keep them for yourself."

"You'll have some, won't you, Mrs. Forbes?" asked Jewel, and the housekeeper so strongly disapproved of Mrs. Evringham's manner that she accepted.

"Perhaps you would like to try some of our candy, Julia," said Mrs. Evringham, as the child followed her aunt and cousin upstairs.

Jewel paused while aunt Madge brought from her room into the hall a large box, beribboned and laced, full of a variety of confections.

"How pretty!" exclaimed the child.

"This is from your friend, Dr. Ballard," said her aunt. "He sent it to the charming little girl, Eloise."

Jewel, running on up to her room eating the creamy chocolate, wondered still more why her cousin should seem so sorry, with so much to make her happy.

"Now, Anna Belle, the time has really come," she said happily to her doll, as she took her in her arms and began putting on her jacket and hat. "We're going away from Castle Discord to seek our fortunes. We're going to leave the giantess, and leave the impolite error fairy, and leave the poor enchanted maiden, and go to find the ravine and the brook. Wait till I put on my oldest shoes, for we shall have to climb deep, deep down to get near to father."

At last she was ready, and when she had closed the heavy house door behind her, and had run down the driveway to the park road, a delicious sense of freedom possessed her.

"There goes the little Westerner," observed Mrs. Evringham, looking from her window. "It's a good thing she knows how to amuse herself."

"A good thing, indeed," returned Eloise. "There is no one here to do anything for her."

"She has wonderful assurance for such a plain little monkey," went on Mrs. Evringham.

"She has extremely good breeding," returned her daughter, coming to the window and following Jewel's retreating figure with her eyes, "and a charming face when she smiles."

"Very well. Look out for yourself, then. I thought last night, once or twice, at dinner, that she was rather entertaining to her grandfather."

"She has her doll," said Eloise wistfully. "Where can she be going? I wish I were going with her."

Mrs. Evringham laughed. "Well, you are bored. Pshaw, my dear! Lie down and get a little beauty sleep. Then we will go driving and see that charming spot Dr. Ballard told us about. I'm sure he will call to-night."



CHAPTER X

THE RAVINE

Outside the well-kept roads of Bel-Air Park, Nature had been encouraged to work her sweet will. The drive wound along the edge of a picturesque gorge, and it was not long before Jewel found the scene of her father's favorite stories.

The sides of the ravine were studded with tall trees, and in its depths flowed a brook, unusually full now from the spring rains.

The child lost no time in creeping beneath the slender wire fence at the roadside, and scrambling down the incline. The brook whispered and gurgled, wild flowers sprang amid the ferns in the shelter and moisture. The child was enraptured.

"Oh, Anna Belle!" She exclaimed, hugging the doll for pure joy. "Castle Discord is far away. There's nobody down here but God!"

For hours she played happily in the enchanting spot, all unconscious of time. Anna Belle lay on a bed of moss, while Jewel became acquainted with her wonderful new playmate, the brook. The only body of water with which she had been familiar hitherto was Lake Michigan. Now she drew stones out of the bank and made dams and waterfalls. She sailed boats of chips and watched them shoot the tiny rapids. She lay down on the bank beside Anna Belle and gazed up through the leafy treetops. Many times this programme had been varied, when at last equipages began to pass on the road above. She could see twinkling wheels and smart liveries.

With a start of recollection, she considered that she might have been a long time in the ravine.

"I wish somebody would let me bring a watch the next time," she said to her doll, as she took her up. "Haven't we had a beautiful afternoon, Anna Belle? Let's call it the Ravine of Happiness, and we'll come here every day—just every day; but perhaps it's time for grandpa to be home, dearie, so we must go back to the castle." She sighed unconsciously as she began climbing up the steep bank and crept under the wire. "I hope we haven't stayed very long, because the giantess might not like it," she continued uneasily; but as she set her feet in the homeward road, every sensation of anxiety fled before an approaching vision. She saw a handsome man in riding dress mounted on a shining horse with arched neck, that lifted its feet daintily as it pranced along the tree-lined avenue.

"Grandpa!" ejaculated Jewel, stepping to the roadside and pausing, her hands clasped beneath her chin and her eyes shining with admiration.

Mr. Evringham drew rein, not displeased by the encounter. The child apparently could not speak. She eyed the horse rather than its rider, a fact which the latter observed and enjoyed.

"Remind you of the horse show?" he inquired.

"It is the horse show," rejoined the child.

"This is Essex Maid, Jewel," said Mr. Evringham. He patted the mare's shining neck. "You shall go out to the barn with me some time and visit her." His eyes wandered over the ruffled hair, the hat on the back of the child's head, and the wet spots on her dress. "Run home now," he added. "I heard Mrs. Forbes asking for you as I came out."

He rode on, and Jewel, her face radiant, followed him with her eyes. In a minute he turned, and she threw rapid kisses after him. He raised his hat, and then a curve in the road hid him from view.

Jewel sighed rapturously and hurried along the road. The giantess had asked for her. Ah, what a happy world it would be if there were nothing at Bel-Air Park but grandpa, his horses, and the ravine!

Mrs. Forbes espied the child in the distance, and was at the door when she came in.

"After this, Julia, you must never go away without telling me where"—she began, when her eyes recognized the condition of the gingham frock, and the child's feet. "Look at how you've drabbled your dress!" she ejaculated.

"It's clean water," returned Julia.

"But your feet! Why, Julia Evringham, they are as wet as sop! Where have you been?"

"Playing by the brook in the ravine."

Mrs. Forbes groaned. "Nothing will satisfy a child but finding the place where they can get the dirtiest and make the most trouble. Why didn't you wear your rubbers, you naughty girl?"

"Why—why—it wasn't raining."

"Raining! Those rubbers are to keep your feet dry. Haven't you got any sense?"

Jewel looked a little pale. "I didn't know I should get wet in the brook," she answered.

"Well, go right upstairs now, up the backstairs, and take off every one of those wet things. Let me feel your petticoat. Yes, that's wet, too. You undress and get into a hot bath, and then you put on your nightgown and go right to bed."

"Go to bed!" echoed the child, bewildered.

"Yes, to bed. You won't come down to dinner. Perhaps that will teach you to wear your rubbers next time and be more careful."

Jewel found the backstairs and ascended them, her little heart hot within her.

"She's the impolitest woman in the whole world, Anna Belle!" she whispered. "I'm going to not cry. Mother didn't know what impoliteness there was at grandpa's or she wouldn't have let us come."

The child's eyes were bright as she found her room and began undressing. "But you mustn't be angry, dearie," she continued excitedly to her doll. "It's the worst error to be angry, because it means hating. You treat me, Anna Belle, and I'll treat you," she went on, unfastening her clothes with unsteady hands.

With many a pause to work at a refractory elastic or button, and many interruptions from catches in her breath, she murmured aloud during the process of her undressing: "Dear Father in Heaven, I seem to feel sorry all over, and full of error. Help me to know that I'm not a mortal mind little girl, hating and angry, but I am Thy child, and the only things I know are good, happy things. Error has no power and Love has all power. I love Mrs. Forbes, and she loves me. Thou art here even in this house, and please help me to know that one of Thy children cannot hurt another." Here Jewel slipped into the new wrapper her mother had made, and hurried into the white tiled bathroom near by. While she let the water run into the tub she put her hand into her pocket mechanically, in search of a handkerchief, and when she felt the crisp touch of paper she drew it out eagerly. It was covered, and she read the words written in her mother's distinct hand.

"Love to my Jewel. Is she making a stepping-stone of every trial, and learning to think less and less about herself, and more and more about other people? And does she remember that little girls cannot always understand the error that grown-up people have to meet, especially those who have not Science to help them? They must be treated very gently, and I hope my little Jewel will be always kind and patient, and make her new friends glad she is there."

The child folded the paper and put it carefully back in her pocket. Then she took her bath, and returning to her room undressed her doll in silence. Finally, changing her wrapper for her nightdress, she climbed into bed, where she lay thinking and looking at the sunlight on the wall.

At dinner time the maid Sarah appeared with a tray. "Here's your dinner, Miss Julia," she said, looking at the heavy-eyed little girl. "It's too bad you're not well."

"I am well, thank you," replied Jewel. "I'm sorry you had to carry that heavy tray up so many stairs."

"Oh, I don't mind that," returned the girl good-naturedly. "I'll set it right here by the bed."

"Is grandpa down there?" asked Jewel wistfully.

"Yes, Miss Julia. They're all eating their dinner. I hope you'll enjoy yours."

Sarah went away, and the little girl spread some bread and butter and ate it slowly.

Meanwhile, when the family had gathered at the dinner table, Mr. Evringham looked up at his housekeeper.

"Where is Jewel?" he asked shortly. "I object to her being unpunctual."

"Yes, sir. She is having dinner in her room. She was very naughty and got wet in the brook."

"Ah, indeed!" Mr. Evringham frowned and looked down. He had been a little disappointed that the bright face was not watching to see him come home from his ride, but of course discipline must be maintained. "I'm sorry to hear this," he added.

Mrs. Evringham and Eloise found him a shade less taciturn than usual to-night. He felt vaguely that he now had an ally of his own flesh and blood in the house, a spirit sufficiently kindred to prefer his society to theirs, and this made him unusually lenient.

He meant to go upstairs after dinner, and warn Jewel to be more careful in future to conform to all Mrs. Forbes's rules; but the meal was scarcely over when a friend called to get him to attend some business meeting held that evening in the interests of the town, and he became interested in his statements and went away with him.

"Wasn't father quite agreeable this evening?" asked Mrs. Evringham of Eloise. "What did I tell you? I could see that he felt relief because that plain little creature was not in evidence. Father always was so fastidious. Of course it is selfish in a way, but it is no use to blame men for caring for beauty. They will do it."

"It was a shame to make that little girl stay upstairs," returned Eloise. "I judge she managed to amuse herself this afternoon, and so she gets punished for it. I should like to go up and sit with her."

"It would not be worth while," returned Mrs. Evringham quickly. "I'm sure Dr. Ballard will be here soon. You would have to come right down again."

"That is not the reason I don't go," returned the girl. "It is because I am not an Evringham, and I have determined not to arrive at friendly relations with any one of the name. When I once escape from here, they will have seen the last of me."

"The way of escape lies open," returned her mother soothingly. "I'm glad you have on that gown. If a man cares for a woman, he always loves to see her in white."

As soon as dinner was over, Mrs. Forbes ascended the stairs to see her prisoner. Jewel was lying quietly in bed, the tray, apparently untouched, beside her. The latter circumstance Mrs. Forbes observed at once.

"Why haven't you eaten your dinner, Julia?" she asked. "I hope you are not sulking."

"No'm. I don't believe I am. I don't know what that means."

"You don't know what sulky means?" suspiciously. "It is very naughty for a little girl to refuse to eat her dinner because she is angry at being punished for her own good."

"Did you send me to bed because you loved me?" asked Jewel. Her cheeks were very red, but even the disconcerted housekeeper could see that she was not excited or angry.

"Everybody loves good little girls," returned Mrs. Forbes. "Now eat your dinner, Julia, so I can carry down the tray."

"I did eat the bread. It was all I wanted. It was very nice."

The polite addition made the housekeeper uncertain. While she paused Jewel added, "I wish I could see grandpa."

"He's gone out on business. He won't be back until after you are asleep. And if you were thinking of complaining to him, Julia, I tell you it won't do any good. He will trust everything to me."

"Do you think I would trouble grandpa?" returned the child.

The housekeeper looked at her in silent perplexity. The blue eyes were direct and innocent, but there was a heaviness about them that stirred Mrs. Forbes uncomfortably.

"You must have got too tired playing this afternoon, Julia," she said decisively, "or you would be hungry for your dinner. You took that hot bath I told you to?"

"Yes'm."

"Where have you put your wet things? Oh, I see, you've spread them out very nicely; but those shoes—I shall have to have them cleaned and polished for you. Now go to sleep as quick as you can and have a long night's rest. I'm sure the next time you go out you won't be so careless."

Jewel's eyes followed the speaker as she bustled about and at last took up the tray.

"Will you kiss me good-night, Mrs. Forbes?" asked the child.

The surprised housekeeper set down her burden, stooped over the bed and kissed her.

"There now, I see you're sorry," she said, somewhat touched.

Jewel gave her a little smile. "No'm, I've stopped being sorry," she replied.

"She'd puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer," soliloquized the housekeeper as she descended the stairs with the tray. "I suppose her mother is uneducated and uses queer English. As the old ones croak, the young ones learn. The child uses words nobody ever heard of, and is ignorant of the commonest ones. I'm glad she's so fond of me if I've got to take care of her."



CHAPTER XI

DR. BALLARD

Mr. Evringham looked about, half in apprehension, half in anticipation, as he entered the dining-room the following morning. Jewel had not arrived, so he settled himself to read his paper. Each time there was a sound he glanced up, bracing himself for the approach of light feet, beaming face, and an ardent embrace. His interest in the news gradually lessened, and his expectancy increased. She did not come. At last he began to suspect that the unprecedented had happened, and that Mrs. Forbes herself was late.

He looked at his watch with suddenly rising amazement. It was ten minutes past the appointed time. He began feeling around with his foot for the electric bell. It was an unaccustomed movement, for his wishes were usually anticipated. By the time he found it, he had become a seriously injured man, and the peal he rang summoned Sarah suddenly.

"Bring me my coffee at once, if you please. What is the matter?"

The maid did not know. He was drinking his first cup when the housekeeper entered the room, flushed of countenance.

"You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Evringham. I couldn't come a minute sooner. Julia is sick."

"Sick! I should like to know why?"

"Why, she got sopping wet in that brook yesterday, and here, just as I knew it would be, she's got a fever."

"A fever, eh?" repeated Mr. Evringham in a startled tone.

"Yes, sir, and what's more, when I told her you would send for the doctor, it was worse than about the rubbers. She talked all the rubbish you can think of. I'm sure she's flighty—said she never had a doctor, that she always got well, and even cried when I told her that that was nonsense."

"Was she ill all night, do you think?"

"I don't know. I found her trying to get up when I went to her room, and I saw at once that she wasn't able to.

"Well, Mrs. Forbes, all I can do is to ask your pardon for adding so much to your cares. Let Sarah bring me my eggs, and then, if you please, telephone for Dr. Ballard to come over before his office hour."

"I will, sir, but I'll ask you to see the child before you go to town and make her promise to behave about the doctor. You'd have thought I was asking to let in a roaring lion."

"Shy, probably."

"Shy! That child shy!" thought Mrs. Forbes.

"She knows Dr. Ballard," continued the broker, "and if you had thought to mention him, she wouldn't have made any fuss."

"If you'll excuse me differing with you, Mr. Evringham, I don't think that child's got a shy bone in her body. In the trolley car yesterday, didn't she make up to a perfect stranger! She eyed him and fingered that little gold pin she wears, till he smiled and touched one of the same pattern in his own cravat. Young as she is, she's some kind of a free mason or secret society, you may be sure. I actually saw him take her hand and give her the grip as he got out of the car. Why you know who it is, it was Mr. Reeves of Highland Street."

"H'm. You are imaginative, Mrs. Forbes. Mr. Reeves is fond of children, and Jewel has a friendly way of looking at people."

The housekeeper bridled. "Well, all is, I guess, you'll find I ain't imaginative when you come to talk with her about the doctor," was the firm response. "When I said medicine she looked as scared as if I'd said poison."

"H'm. Been dosed then. Mother an allopath probably. Burnt child dreads the fire. I think homeopathy is the thing for children. Guy will do very well. Call him up at once, please. He might go out."

When Mr. Evringham had finished his breakfast, he climbed to the white room, planning as he went a short and peremptory speech to the rebellious one; for he had less time left than usual for his daily talk with his housekeeper before catching the train.

The curtains in the room were half drawn as he entered, and the child's figure looked small in the big white bed. She exclaimed as he drew near, and seizing his hand, kissed it.

"You'd better not kiss me, grandpa, because I'm so hot and uncomfortable," she said thickly. "Oh, how I wanted to see you all night!"

The little hands clinging to his were burning. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm very sorry for this, Jewel. It's your own fault, I understand, my girl."

"Yes, I know it is. When I first called the house Castle Discord and talked to Anna Belle about the error fairy, and the enchanted maiden, and the giantess, I didn't see it was hate creeping in and making me not careful to deny it all. I know it is all my fault."

Mr. Evringham gazed at the flushed face with startled eyes. "Dear me, this is really very bad!" he thought. "Delirious so early in the morning. I wish Guy would come!"

"Well, we'll soon have Dr. Ballard here," he said aloud, trying to speak soothingly. "He'll set you all right very soon."

"Oh, grandpa, dear grandpa," with the utmost earnestness, "would you please not send for the doctor? I won't be any trouble. I don't want anything to eat, only a drink of water, and I'll soon be well."

Her beseeching tone and her helplessness touched some unsuspected chord in her listener's breast.

"Jewel, don't you want to go out to the stable with me and feed Essex Maid with sugar?" he asked.

"Yes, grandpa," with a half sob.

"You don't want me to be unhappy and worried about you when I get into my office?"

"No, grandpa."

"And you liked Dr. Ballard, I'm sure, when you came out with him on the train day before yesterday."

"Day before yesterday! Oh, was it? It seems a year ago! But I wanted to come and see you so much I was willing to let father and mother go away, and I never thought that I wouldn't know when error was getting hold of me.

"Well, never mind now, Jewel. Dr. Ballard will help you, and as soon as you get well I'll take you for a fine long drive, if you'll be good. I'm sure you don't want to trouble me."

"No." Another half sob caught the child's throat. "Here is something I bought for you yesterday, grandpa." She drew from under the further pillow the yellow chicken, somewhat disheveled, and put it in his hand. "I meant to give it to you last night, but Mrs. Forbes kept me upstairs because she thought she ought to make me sorry, and so I couldn't."

The stockbroker cleared his throat as he regarded his new possession. "It was kind of you, Jewel," he returned. "I shall stand it on my desk. Now—ahem"—looking around the big empty room, "you won't be lonely, I hope, until the doctor comes?"

"No, I'd like to be alone, I have so much work to do."

"Dear me, dear me!" thought Mr. Evringham, "this is very distressing. She seems to have lucid intervals, and then so quickly gets flighty again."

"Besides, I like to think of the Ravine of Happiness," continued the child, "and the brook. Supposing I could lay my cheek down in the brook now. The water is so cool, and it laughs and whispers such pretty things."

"Now if you would try to go to sleep, Jewel," said Mr. Evringham, "it would please me very much. Good-by. I shall come to see you again to-night." He stooped his tall form and kissed the child's forehead, and her hot lips pressed his hand, then he went out.

At the foot of the stairs he encountered Mrs. Forbes waiting, and hastily put behind him the hand that held the chicken.

"Well, sir?"

"She's very badly off, very badly off, I'm afraid."

"I hope not, sir. Children are always flighty if they have a little fever. What about dinner, sir?"

"Have anything you please," returned Mr. Evringham briefly. "I wish to see Dr. Ballard as soon as he arrives. Tell Zeke I shall not go until the next train." With these words the broker entered his study, and his housekeeper looked after him in amazement. It was the first time she had ever seen him indifferent concerning his dinner.

"I wonder if he thinks she's got something catching," she soliloquized. Then a sudden thought occurred to her. "No great loss without some small gain," she thought grimly. "'T would clear the house."

She watched at the window until she saw Dr. Ballard's buggy approaching. Then she opened the door and met him.

"Your little visitor do you say?" asked the young doctor as he greeted her and entered. "What mischief has she been up to so soon?"

"Oh, the usual sort," returned Mrs. Forbes, and recounted her grievances. "She's the oddest child in the world," she finished, "and her last freak is that she doesn't want to have a doctor."

"Dear me, what heresy!" The young man smiled. "Which room, Mrs. Forbes?"

"Please go into the library first, Dr. Ballard. Mr. Evringham is waiting to see you."

The broker was sitting before his desk as the doctor entered, and he turned with a brief greeting.

"I'm glad you've come, Ballard. I'm very much troubled about the child. Her father and mother abroad you understand, and I feel the responsibility. She seems very flighty, quite wild in her talk at moments. I wished to warn you that one of her feverish ideas is that she doesn't want a doctor. You will have to use some tact."

The physician's face lost its careless smile. "Delirious, you say?"

"Yes, go right up, Guy. I'll wait for you here. It's so sudden. She was quite well, to all appearances, yesterday."

"Children are sensitive little mortals," remarked Dr. Ballard, and then Mrs. Forbes ushered him up to the white room. He asked her to remain within call, and entered alone.

The child's eyes were open as he approached the bed, the black case she remembered in his hand. By her expression he saw that her mind was clear.

"Well, well, Jewel, this isn't the way I meant you to receive me the first time I called," he said pleasantly, drawing up a chair beside the bed. The child put out her hand to his offered one and tried to smile. As he held the hand he felt her pulse. "This isn't the way to behave when you go visiting," he added.

"I know it isn't," returned Jewel contritely.

"The next time you go wading in the brook, take off your shoes and stockings, little one, and I think you would better wait until later in the season, anyway. You've made quick work of this business." As he talked the doctor took his little thermometer out of its case. "Now then, let me slip this under your tongue."

"What is it?" asked Jewel, shrinking.

"What! Haven't you ever had your temperature tried? Well, you have been a healthy little girl! All the better. Just take it under your tongue, and don't speak for a minute, please."

"Please don't ask me to. I can't."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. It won't hurt you." The doctor smiled.

"I know what that is now," said Jewell, regarding the little tube. "A man was cured of paralysis once by having a thing like that stuck in his mouth. He thought it was meant to cure him. I haven't paralysis."

The doctor began to consider that perhaps Mr. Evringham had not exaggerated. "Come, Jewel," he said kindly. "I thought we were such good friends. You are wasting my time."

A moment more of hesitation, and then the child suddenly opened her mouth and accepted the thermometer. She kept her eyes closed during the process of waiting, and at last Dr. Ballard took out the little instrument and examined it.

"Let me see your tongue."

The child stared in surprise.

"Put out your tongue, Jewel," he repeated kindly.

"But that is impolite," she protested.

He changed his position. The poor little thing was flighty, and no wonder, with such a temperature. He took her hand again. "I'll overlook the impoliteness. Run out your tongue now. Far as you can, dear."

The child obeyed.

Presently she said, "I feel very uncomfortable, Dr. Ballard. I don't feel a bit like visiting, so if you wouldn't mind going away until I feel better. You interrupted me when you came in. I have lots of work to do yet. When I get well I'd just love to see you. I'd rather see you than almost anybody in Bel-Air."

"Yes, yes, dear. I'll go away very soon. Where does your throat feel sore? Put your finger on the place."

Jewel looked up with all the rebuke she could convey. "You ought not to ask me that," she returned.

Dr. Ballard rose and went to the door. "Get me a glass of water, please, Mrs. Forbes."

"Not a glass. I want a whole pitcher full right side of me," said Jewel.

"Yes, a pitcher full also, if you please, Mrs. Forbes. Just let the maid bring them up."

The doctor returned to the bedside. "Now we'll soon forget that you wet those little feet," he said.

"That didn't do me any harm, that clean sweet brook. Mrs. Forbes didn't know what was the real matter."

"What was it, then?"

"My own fault," said Jewel, speaking with feverish quickness and squeezing the doctor's hand. "When I came here I found that nobody loved one another and everybody was afraid and sorry, and instead of denying it and helping them, I began voicing error and calling them names. I didn't keep remembering that God was here, and I called it Castle Discord and called Mrs. Forbes the giantess, and aunt Madge the error fairy, and cousin Eloise the enchanted maiden, and of course how could I help getting sick?"

Dr. Ballard leaned toward her. Was this an impromptu tale, or was it a fact that this child had been coldly treated and unhappy? "You have a sensitive conscience, Jewel," he returned.

Here Sarah entered, set down the tray with pitcher, glasses, and spoon, and departed. The doctor loosed the little hand he had been holding, took up his case, and opened it.

Jewel watched him with apprehension. "That's—medicine isn't it?" she asked with bated breath.

"Yes." The doctor carefully selected a bottle of liquid and set it on the table. "I think this one will do us."

Jewel's remark on the train about materia medica recurred to him, and he smiled.

"Dr. Ballard, aren't you a Christian?" she asked suddenly.

He glanced up. "I hope so."

"Then you'll forgive me if I won't take medicine. I put out my tongue, and I sucked the little glass thing because I didn't want to trouble you; but I have too much faith in God to take medicine." The child looked at the doctor appealingly.

He began to see light, and in his surprise, for a moment he did not reply.

"Jesus Christ would have used drugs if they had been right," she added.

"But He isn't here now," returned the astonished young man.

"Why, Dr. Ballard," in gentle reproach, "Christ is the Truth of God. Isn't He here now, healing us and helping us just the same as ever? Didn't He say He would be? You will see how much better I shall be to-night."

Dr. Ballard met the heavy eyes with his own kind, clear ones. "I see you have been taught in new ways, Jewel," he said seriously, "but you are only a little girl, and while you are in your grandfather's house you ought to do as he wishes. He wishes you to let me prescribe for you. No one who is ill can help making trouble. You have no right not to try to get well in the way Mr. Evringham and Mrs. Forbes wish you to."

Jewel felt herself in a desperate position. The corners of her lips twitched down. Dr. Ballard thought he saw his advantage, and leaned his fine head toward her. She impulsively threw her arms around his neck.

"You don't want to hurt my feelings, Jewel," he said. She was crying softly.

"No—it would make me—very—sorry, but it would be—worse—to hurt—God's. Please don't make me, please, please don't make me, Dr. Ballard!"

She was increasingly excited, and he feared the effect.

"Very well then, Jewel," he returned. "I don't want to do you more harm than good."

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed fervently, through her tears.

"But Mrs. Forbes must think you have the medicine. You haven't told her that you are—ahem—a Christian Scientist. I suppose that is what you call yourself."

"Yes, sir. A Christian Scientist. Oh, you're the kindest man," pursued the relieved child. "I realized in my prayer that you didn't know it was wrong to believe in material medica, for you reflect love all the time."

While she was talking and wiping her eyes the doctor took the pitcher and one of the glasses to the window, and stood with his back to her.

"Now then," he said, returning, "we'll put this half glass of water on the table. I put the spoon across it so, and when Mrs. Forbes is next in the room you take a couple of spoonfuls and that will satisfy her. You may tell her that I wanted you only to take it about four times during the day. If you are better when I come back this evening, I will not insist upon your taking any pellets on your tongue. Here is the other glass for you to drink from."

With a few more kind words Dr. Ballard took his departure, and going downstairs met Mrs. Forbes. "The little girl has a heavy feverish cold. She understands how to take her medicine. She will probably sleep a good deal. Let her be quiet."

He went on to the study, where Mr. Evringham was waiting, sitting at the desk, his head on his hand, frowning at the yellow chicken. He looked up expectantly as the doctor entered.

"Well?" he asked.

Dr. Ballard came forward and seated himself in a neighboring chair.

"Do you know what you have upstairs there?" he asked in a low tone.

"For heaven's sake, Guy, don't tell me it's something serious—something infectious!" Mr. Evringham turned pale.

The doctor's sudden smile was reassuring. "It does seem to be infectious to some degree," he returned, "but I don't believe you'll catch it."