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Updated: June 16, 2025
Aren't you going to tell me your name?" "My name is Jewel." "And I am Dr. Ballard, so now we are properly introduced." He smiled upon her with merry eyes, and she responded politely: "I'm very glad you found us." Arrived at Bel-Air, the doctor picked up his case and Jewel followed him from the train. He looked about expectantly for Mrs. Evringham or her daughter. They were not there.
So they went laughingly on their way, and Charles tried his best to get Miss Penny to go and show him the way to the Bel-Air, pleading absolute confusion still as to the points of the compass and the lie of the land. He was to lunch with them at the Red House, but insisted on going home first to straighten up and make himself presentable.
"The green pastures were in Bel-Air Park, weren't they?" she said, "and you hadn't seen them, had you?" "No," returned Mrs. Evringham gently, "and just now there is not a cloud in our bright sky." "Father's gone away," returned Jewel doubtfully. "Only to get ready to come back. It is very wonderful, Jewel." "Yes, it is. I'm sure it makes God glad to see us so happy."
"Drive your hardest to Bel-Air, the Marquis's fete begins at nine o'clock!" said the villain addressed, who was none other than the famous nobleman's pander.... What cared the Marquis and La Fleur about the blind one's misfortunes. As La Fleur had said: "Never fear blindness is ever a good stock in trade. She'll find her career in the streets of Paris!"
"Good-bye, Jewel, till we meet again, some Sunday soon, I hope." They shook hands, and Mr. Reeves went smiling on his way. "Seven years," he reflected. "There's the simon pure article. She can't be over nine. I'll wager Bel-Air Park has had its sensations of late. Evringham! The high ball, the billiard ball, and the race track, and now the reputation of being a difficult old martinet.
'Twas whispered talk, but a chance bystander might at least have overheard the words: "... At my fete of Bel-Air make no mistake, La Fleur I rely on you. One hundred louis, the reward...." Or another scene that marked de Praille's entry into Paris, might have interested them.
There one could descry four dormer-windows, guarded with bars; they were the windows of the Fine-Air. A chimney pierced the roof; this was the chimney which traversed the dormitories. The Bel-Air, that top story of the New Building, was a sort of large hall, with a Mansard roof, guarded with triple gratings and double doors of sheet iron, which were studded with enormous bolts.
She sat there, contentedly swinging her feet. "Now I can just catch a boat if I leave you immediately," said Mr. Evringham consulting his watch. "You've only a little more than five minutes to wait before the train starts." "Then hurry, grandpa, I'm all right." "Very well. Your fare is paid, and the conductor understands. You might ask somebody, though. Bel-Air, you know. Good-by."
I was again attacked by a remittent fever of an obstinate character. I was again conveyed to Bel-Air. The doctor was again summoned, and he had a difficult task in restoring me to health. But he protested against my return to the Pearl estate, declaring that another attack would place me beyond the reach of medical assistance. It chanced that Mr. Coxall, a rich merchant of St.
Jewel fell on her knees, and while Mr. Evringham kept his hand on the dog's muzzle, she pushed aside the silky white fur. "Evringham. Bel-Air Park, New Jersey," was what she read, engraved on the silver. She sat still for a minute, overcome, while a procession of ideas crowded after each other through the flaxen head. It was her birthday; grandpa couldn't get the boat under the tablecloth.
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