In a future day Mrs. Evringham was to learn something of the inner history of the progress of this little pilgrim during her first days at Bel-Air; but the shadows had so entirely faded from Jewel's consciousness that she could not have told it herself--not even such portions of it as she had once realized.

"Yes, indeed, I love Bel-Air and all the people. Even aunt Madge kissed me when she went away and said 'Good-by, you queer little thing!'"

"What did she mean?" asked Mrs. Evringham.

"I don't know. I didn't tell grandpa, because I thought he might not like people calling me queer, but I asked Zeke."

"He's Mr. Evringham's coachman, isn't he?"

"Yes, and he's the nicest man, but he only told me that aunt Madge had wheels. I asked him what kind of wheels, and he said he guessed they were rubber-tired, because she was always rubbering and she made people tired.

You know Zeke is such a joker, so I haven't found out yet what aunt Madge meant, and it isn't any matter because"--Jewel reached up and hugged her mother, "you've come home."

Here the two men approached. "No more time for spooning," said Harry cheerfully. "We're going now, little girls."

After all, there was nothing for Jewel to carry. Her father and grandfather had the dress-suit case and bags.

Mrs. Evringham looked inquiringly at her husband, but he was gayly talking with Jewel as the four walked out to the street.

Mr. Evringham led the way to a carriage that was standing there. "This is ours," he said, opening the door.

Harry put the bags up beside the driver while his wife entered the vehicle, still in doubt as to their destination. Jewel jumped in beside her.

"You'd better move over, dear," said her mother quietly. "Let Mr. Evringham ride forward."

She was not surprised that Jewel was ignorant of carriage etiquette. It was seldom that either of them had seen the inside of one.

The broker heard the suggestion. "_Place aux dames_," he said, briefly, and moved the child back with one hand. Then he entered, Harry jumped in beside him, slammed the door, and they rolled away.

"If Anna Belle was here the whole family would be together," said Jewel joyously. "I don't care which one I sit by. I love everybody in this carriage!"

"You do, eh, rascal?" returned her father, putting his hand over in her silken lap and giving her a little shake. "Where is the great and good Anna Belle?"

"Waiting for us. Just think of it, all this time! Grandpa, are we going home with you?"

"What do you mean?" inquired the broker, and the tone of the curt question chilled the spine of his daughter-in-law. "Were you thinking of spending the night in the ferry-house, perhaps?"

"Why, no, only mother said"--

Mrs. Evringham pressed the child's arm. "That was nothing, Jewel; I simply didn't know what the plan was," she put in hastily.

"Oh, of course," went on the little girl. "Mother didn't know aunt Madge and cousin Eloise were gone, and she didn't believe there'd be room. She doesn't know how big the house is, does she, grandpa?" An irresistible yawn seized the child, and in the middle of it her father leaned forward and chucked her under the chin.

Her jaws came together with a snap. "There! you spoiled that nice one!" she exclaimed, jumping up and laughing as she flung herself upon her big playmate, and a small scuffle ensued in which the wide leghorn hat brim sawed against Mr. Evringham's shoulder and neck in a manner that caused Mrs. Evringham's heart to leap toward her throat. How _could_ Harry be so thoughtless! A street lamp showed the grim lines of the broker's averted face as he gazed stonily out to the street.

"Come here, Jewel; sit still," said the mother, striving to pull the little girl back into her seat.

Harry was laughing and holding his agile a.s.sailant off as best he might, and at his wife's voice aided her efforts with a gentle push. Jewel sank back on the cushion.

"Oh, what bores he thinks us. I know he does!" reflected Julia, capturing her child in one arm and holding her close. To her surprise and even dismay, Jewel spoke cheerfully after another yawn:--

"Grandpa, how far is it to the ferry? How long, I mean?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"Well, that's a good while. My eyes do feel as if they had sticks in them.

Don't you wish we could cross in a swan boat, grandpa?"

"Humph!" he responded. Mrs. Evringham gave the child a little squeeze intended to be repressive. Jewel wriggled around a minute trying to get a comfortable position.

"Tell father and mother about Central Park and the swan boats, grandpa,"

she continued.

"You tell them to-morrow, when you're not so sleepy," he replied.

Jewel took off her large hat, and nestling her head on her mother's shoulder, put an arm around her. "Mother, mother!" she sighed happily, "are you really home?"

"Really, really," replied Mrs. Evringham, with a responsive squeeze.

Mr. Evringham sat erect in silence, still gazing out the window with a forbidding expression.

There were b.u.t.tons on her mother's gown that rubbed Jewel's cheek. She tried to avoid them for a minute and then sat up. "Father, will you change places with me?" she asked sleepily. "I want to sit by grandpa."

Mrs. Evringham's eyes widened, and in spite of her earnest "Dearie!" the transfer was made and Jewel crept under Mr. Evringham's arm, which closed naturally around her. She leaned against him and shut her eyes.

"You mustn't go to sleep," he said.

"I guess I shall," returned the child softly.

"No, no. You mustn't. Think of the lights crossing the ferry. You'll lose a lot if you're asleep. They're fine to see. We can't carry you and the luggage, too. Brace up, now--Come, come! I shouldn't think you were any older than Anna Belle."

Jewel laughed sleepily, and the broker held her hand in his while he pushed her upright. Mr. and Mrs. Evringham looked on, the latter marveling at the child's nonchalance.

Now, for the first time, the host became talkative.

"How many days have you to give us, Harry?" he asked.

"A couple, perhaps," replied the young man.

"Two days, father!" exclaimed Jewel, in dismay, wide awake in an instant.

"Oh, that's a stingy visit," remarked Mr. Evringham.

"Not half long enough," added Jewel. "There's so much for you to see."

"Oh, we can see a lot in two days," returned Harry. "Think of the little girls in Chicago, Jewel. They won't forgive me if I don't bring you home pretty soon." He leaned forward and took his child's free hand. "How do you suppose father has got along without his little girl all these weeks, eh, baby?"

"It _is_ a long time since you went away," she returned, "but I was right in your room every night, and daytimes I played in your ravine. Bel-Air Park is the beautifulest place in the whole world. Two days isn't any time to stay there, father."