"I hope it isn't on business," she remarked flippantly as she entered.

"I tell you right at the start, father, I can't understand it." Her eyes wandered about the room curiously. It was strange to her. She took up a woman's picture from the desk. "Who is this?" she asked.

"How do you like the face?" he returned.

The dark eyes and sweet mouth looked back at her. She frowned slightly.

She did not like the situation in which she had found the photograph. It was far too intimate for a stranger, and made her a little nervous.

"If he is going to marry again, then good-by indeed!" she thought.

"I think it is rather sentimental," she returned, with an air of engaging candor, "don't you? Just my first impression, you know; but it's a face I shouldn't trust. Who is it?"

"It is Jewel's mother," returned the broker quietly, "my daughter Julia.

Jewel brought it down last night, also a lot of little letters her mother had put in the pockets of the child's dresses when she packed them."

"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham triumphantly. "Didn't I say she was sentimental? About that sort of thing my perceptions are always so keen."

"H'm. I read the letters, and I judged from them that one can trust her.

Will you be seated?" He placed a chair. "I should like to ask your plans for the summer."

Mrs. Evringham looked up quickly, startled. "Oh, I haven't any. Have you?"

"Yes. I always seek some cool spot. You have an invitation to View Point, I understand. You could scarcely do better."

"I have reasons, father," impressively, "reasons for declining that."

"Then where are you going?"

"I would just as lief stay here and take care of your house as not,"

declared the lady magnanimously.

"Ha! Without any servants?"

"Why, what do you mean?"

"They are going away for a vacation. I am intending to have the house wired, and Mrs. Forbes and Zeke will hold sway in the barn. She doesn't wish to leave him."

Mrs. Evringham was silenced and dismayed. She felt herself being firmly and inexorably pushed out of this well-lined nest.

Her eyes fell before the impenetrable ones regarding her.

"How did Jewel ever win him?" she thought. The picturesque pony, with his arched neck and expensive trappings, had outraged her feelings for days.

"About the View Point plan," continued Mr. Evringham deliberately.

"I think there are influences waiting for you there that will be of benefit. There is a new philosophy percolating in these days through our worldly rubbish which you and I would be the better for grasping. Your chances are better than mine, for you are young still. Your daughter is expanding like a flower already, in the first rays of her understanding of it. This young man whom you fancy you can avoid is a help to her. Mr.

Reeves was talking to me about him last night. He says that so far as his business is concerned, young Bonnell is proving the square peg in the square hole. I don't know what Eloise's sentiments are toward him, but I do know that she shall be independent of any one's financial help but mine."

Mrs. Evringham lifted her eyes hopefully.

"I shall eke out the little income which is left to you with sufficient for you to live--not as you have done--but comfortably."

The eager light faded from his listener's eyes.

"Eloise and I have arranged that," he continued, "and she is satisfied.

Take my advice, Madge. Go to View Point."

"I suppose Eloise doesn't need horses so long as Jewel has them," said Mrs. Evringham rising.

Her host followed her example. "She thinks not," he returned concisely; then he opened the library door, and his daughter-in-law swept from his presence with all the dignity she could muster.

CHAPTER XXVIII

AT TWILIGHT

It was Sunday, and Mr. Bonnell was dining at Bel-Air Park. Had Jewel thought of it, she might have contrasted the expression of Mrs. Forbes's face as she waited at table this evening with the look it wore on the day she first arrived; might have noted the cheerful flow of talk which enlivened the board, in distinction from the stiff silence or bitter repartee which once chilled her. As she responded to the smiles hovering now about Eloise's lovely lips, she might have remembered the once sombre sadness of those eyes. Even Mrs. Evringham had buried the Macbethian dagger, and wore the meek and patient air of one misunderstood; but nothing would have amazed the child so much as to be told that she had had anything to do with this metamorphosis.

Anna Belle,--deserted often now, perforce, on account of the pony, whose life was a strenuous one, owing to the variety of Jewel's attentions,--Anna Belle was petted with extra fondness when her turn came; and she sat at table now in a pleasing trance, her smile an impartial benediction upon all.

It had been a glorious June day, the park was at its best. After dinner the family strolled out toward the piazza.

Mrs. Forbes had attended her own Baptist church that morning, and the familiar Sunday-school tune that the children sang floated through her mind as she looked after the group.

"When He cometh, when He cometh, To make up His jewels, All His pure ones, all His bright ones, His loved and His own.

"Little children, little children, Who love their Redeemer, Are the jewels, precious jewels, His loved and His own."

"What is Mr. Evringham going to do without that child?" she thought.

The broker was invaded with the same problem as Jewel lingered with him on the piazza, while the others walked on toward a seat beneath a spreading maple.

He ensconced himself in his favorite chair. The thrushes were singing vespers. The pure air was faintly and deliciously scented.

"Grandpa, is it too late to bring Star out for a nibble?" asked the little girl wistfully.

"No, I guess not," returned the broker as he opened his cigar case.

"Star may have a short life, but he's certainly experiencing a merry one. There's no moss gathering on that pony."

Jewel had not waited for more than the permission. She was fleeing toward the barn.

Mr. Evringham lighted his cigar, and then his eye fell upon the doll, too hastily set down, and fallen at a distressing angle. Her eyes were closed as if her sensibilities had been shocked overmuch.

"Anna Belle, Anna Belle, has it come to this!" he murmured, picking up the neglected one, who, with her usual elasticity and exuberance of spirit, at once opened her eyes and beamed optimistically on her rescuer. He set her, facing him, on his knee. "Such is youth!" he sighed. "When she throws you down, I feel that I'm not going to be so recuperative as you, Anna Belle. I have a plan, however, a plan of self-defense; but if it weren't for your discretion, I shouldn't tell it to you, for I'm an old bird, young lady, and can't be caught with chaff.

There are many worthy persons who may rise to lofty heights in eternity, who nevertheless, meanwhile are not desirable to sit opposite a man at his breakfast table. A visit, Anna Belle, a short visit from my daughter Julia is all I shall ask for at first, and I shall test her, test her, my dear. I'll look at her through a magnifying gla.s.s. Of course, if they'd give me Jewel, it would be all I'd ask for; but they won't. That is self-evident."

Here the child came around the corner of the house, leading her pet by a halter, but with her hand in his mane as she pressed close to his side, caressing and talking to him. In fact it was the hara.s.sing problem of the pony's life to manage to avoid stepping on her. Zeke lounged in the background on account equally of his orders and his inclination.

Star began cropping the gra.s.s, and Mr. Evringham continued his disquisition to the bright-eyed young person on his knee:--