As the subject concerned Dr. Ballard, she wished to understand clearly what circ.u.mstance could possibly have induced Mr. Evringham to laugh repeatedly.

"I was pa.s.sing your door this afternoon," said Eloise, addressing Jewel, "and I heard you talking. I knew there was no one with you, and I feared you were very ill."

The little girl was always pleased when her beautiful cousin looked at her.

"I guess I was reading. Of course I was in a hurry to get well, so as soon as the fever was gone and I felt comfortable, I began to read out loud from 'Science and Health' to Anna Belle. She's a Christian Scientist, too."

The faces of Mrs. Evringham and Eloise were studies as they gazed at the speaker.

Mr. Evringham glanced at them maliciously under his heavy brows as Sarah brought in the second course.

"Is Anna Belle your doll?" asked Eloise, for the moment sufficiently interested almost to lose her self-consciousness.

"Yes," eagerly. "Would you like to see her?" Jewel gave a fleeting glance at Mrs. Forbes. "She always comes to the table with me at home,"

she added.

"Sit still," murmured Mrs. Forbes in low, sepulchral warning.

"Now then, Jewel," said Mr. Evringham as he began to serve the filet, "you didn't take the doctor's medicine. What do you think made that high fever go away?"

The little girl looked up brightly. "Oh, I telegraphed to Mrs. Lewis, one of mother's friends in Chicago, to treat me."

"The dev--What do you mean, child?"

Mr. Evringham gazed at her, and his tone was so fierce, although he was only very much amazed, that Jewel's smile faded. The corners of her lips drew down pitifully, and suddenly she slipped from her chair, and running to him threw her arms around his neck and buried her averted face, revealing two forlorn little flaxen pigtails devoid of ribbons.

"What's this, Jewel?" he said quickly, fearfully embarra.s.sed before his wondering audience. "This is very irregular, very irregular." He dropped his fork perforce, and his hand closed over the little arm across his cravat.

Jewel was trying to control a sob that struggled to escape, and saying over and over, as nearly as he could understand, something about G.o.d being Love.

"Go right back to your chair now, like a good girl."

"Do you--love me?" whispered Jewel.

"Yes--yes, I do."

"You spoke like"--a sob--"like hating."

"Not at all, not at all," rejoined Mr. Evringham quickly, "but I was very much surprised, very."

"Shall I take her upstairs, sir?" asked Mrs. Forbes, nearly bursting with the outrage of such an interruption to her employer's sacred dinner.

"No, she's going to sit right down in her chair and not make any trouble. Don't you like those roses I brought you, Jewel?" he added awkwardly, hoping to make a diversion. He was successful. She lowered her face, a fleeting April smile flitting over it.

"Did grandfather bring you those lovely roses?" asked Eloise.

Mr. Evringham flashed her his first glance of approval for so quickly taking the cue.

"Yes," replied the child, her breath catching as she went back to her chair. "I seemed so sick when he went away this morning was the reason; so now I'm well again--they belong to everybody, don't they, grandpa?"

Mr. Evringham paused to consider a reply. He desired to be careful in public not to draw upon himself that small catapult.

"They belong to you still, Jewel. I never take back my presents," he returned at last.

"And I think Mrs. Forbes was mistaken about the false pretends," said the child, swallowing and looking apologetically at the housekeeper, "because who would pretend such error as sickness, and of course you'd know I didn't pretend."

"Certainly not," said Mr. Evringham. "Mrs. Forbes didn't mean that. The whole thing seems like a dream now," he added.

"What else could it seem like?" returned Jewel, smiling faintly toward her grandfather with an air of having caught him napping.

"Like reality," he returned dryly.

She gazed at him, her smile fading.

He looked up apprehensively and cringed a little, not at all sure that the next instant would not find the rose-leaf cheek next his, and a close whisper driving cold chills down his back; but the child only paused a moment.

"Reality is so much different from sin, disease, and death," she said at last, in a matter-of-fact manner. It was too much for Mrs. Evringham's risibles. She laughed in spite of her daughter's reproachful glance.

"How wonderful if true!" she exclaimed.

"It is true," returned Jewel soberly. "Even Anna Belle knows that; but I'm sure that you haven't learned anything about Christian Science, aunt Madge," she added politely.

"What makes you so sure?" returned Mrs. Evringham banteringly.

Jewel flushed with embarra.s.sment and glanced at her grandfather involuntarily, but he was busy eating and evidently would not help her.

"I'd rather not say," replied the child at last, and her rejoinder incited her aunt to further merriment.

"Aunt Madge doesn't laugh in a nice way," thought Jewel. "It's even pleasanter when she looks sorry."

"What is real then, Jewel?" asked Eloise gravely.

The child flashed upon her a sweet look.

"Everything good and glad," she answered.

Something rose in the girl's throat, and she pressed her lips together for an instant.

"You are happy to believe that," she returned.

"Oh, I don't believe it," replied Jewel. "It's one of the things I _know_. Mother says we only believe things when we aren't sure about them. Mother knows such a lot of beautiful truth."

The child looked at her cousin wistfully as she spoke. Eloise could scarcely retain her proud and nonchalant bearing beneath the blue eyes.

They seemed to see through to her wretchedness.

She did not look at Jewel again during dinner. At the close Mr.

Evringham pushed his chair back.

"I should like you to come with me into my study, Jewel, for a few minutes."