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"I'm going to write to mother and father to-night, and I'm going to tell them how kind you are to me." That evening, in Mr. Evringham's library, Jewel wrote the letter. Her grandfather, after making some extremely uncomplimentary comments upon the weather, had lowered his green-shaded electric light and established himself beneath it with his book.
There was a vista in the park avenue which afforded a fair look at equipages three minutes before they could reach Mr. Evringham's gateway. From the moment the doctor's office hour was over this stanch supporter set herself to watch that gap. As soon as she saw Hector's dappled coat and easy stride she sprang up and went downstairs, and when the shining buggy paused at the steps and Dr.
Evringham's deep-set eyes widened. "Is it possible? Well, we're all worms." Jewel smiled fondly at him, her head a little on one side, in its characteristic attitude. "You're such a joker," she returned. "If you really dislike smoke," said the broker after a minute, "perhaps you'd better take your letter up to your room." "I don't mind it," she returned. "Father used to smoke.
Then the glance of this factotum fell to Jewel's uplifted, rose-tinted face and her trustful gaze fixed on his own. Zeke twirled his hat slowly between his hands. "You just step into Mr. Evringham's office," he said quietly, "and tell him the young lady he invited has arrived."
Evringham's paper hid a face which suddenly contorted, but the housekeeper's quick-glancing eyes could not see a telltale motion. She gave a hard little laugh. "You think there's hope for you then, do you?" she returned. "I guess I'm not going to be married," replied Jewel. "Father says I'm going to be his bachelor maid when I grow up." "Shouldn't wonder if you were," said Mrs. Forbes dryly.
"Why, don't you know?" returned the other. "That's his granddaughter." "His daughter, do you mean? Didn't know he had one." "Not a bit of it. She's Lawrence's stepdaughter." The other shook his head. "That's too involved for me. She's a queen, anyway." "Going to marry Ballard, they say." "That so? Then I won't go up and fall on Evringham's neck. My bank book isn't in Ballard's class.
"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.
Evringham's all right," agreed Zeke, "but he isn't going to be the only pebble any longer. Your father and mother will be the whole thing now." The child was thoughtful a moment, then she began earnestly: "Oh, I'm sure grandpa knows how it is about loving. The more people you love, the more you can love.
There was an ominous glitter in Mr. Evringham's eyes. "Eloise's father!" he returned slowly. "I did not know that she remembered him." The hurt of his tone and words sank deep into the heart of the girl, but she looked up courageously. "Your son was my father in every best sense," she said. "We were inseparable. You must have known it."
Evringham's youngest son Harry has turned up again!" "I should think it was the old Harry by your tone," rejoined Zeke equably. "He and his wife, poor as church mice, are getting their expenses paid to Europe on business, and they have the nerve yes, the cheek to ask Mr. Evringham to let them leave their young one, a girl eight years old, with him while they're gone."
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