Jewel's head lay back against Dr. Ballard's shoulder, and her eyes never swerved from the white-robed musician. When the player had finished and been thanked, the child and the doctor exchanged a look of appreciation. “That sounds the way it does in the Ravine of Happiness,” said Jewel. “Where is that?” “Where the brook is.” “Oh!” Dr. Ballard had unpleasant associations with the brook. “I understand you are fond of horses,” he added irrelevantly. “Oh yes.” “Do you want to go driving with me to-morrow morning?” Jewel's face grew radiant. “Oh yes!” She looked across at her grandfather. “I promised to take you driving, didn't I, Jewel? Well, the pleasant weather has come. I guess she'll go with me to-morrow, Ballard.” “Guess again, Mr. Evringham,” retorted the doctor gayly. “She has accepted my invitation.” Mrs. Evringham looked on and wondered. “What is it about that child that takes them all?” she soliloquized. “She reminds me of that dreadfully plain Madam what's-her-name, who was so fascinating to everybody at the French court.” Eloise was smiling. “Now it's your turn, Jewel,” she said. The child looked from one to another. “I never sang for anybody,” she returned doubtfully. “Yes indeed, for Anna Belle. I've heard you,” said Eloise. “Oh, she was singing with me.” “Very well. Let her sing with you now.” “What one?” “The one I heard,--'Father, where Thine own children are I love to be.'” “Oh, you mean. 'O'er waiting harpstrings.' All right,” and the child, sitting where she was, sang the well-loved hymn to a touched audience. “Upon my word, Jewel,” said her grandfather when she had finished. “Your music isn't all in your soul.” His eyes were glistening. “Those are beautiful words,” said Dr. Ballard. “I don't remember any such hymn.” “Mrs. Eddy wrote it,” returned the child. “It wasn't Castle Discord to-night,” she said later to Anna Belle, while they were going to bed. “Didn't you notice how much differently people loved one another?” CHAPTER XIX A MORNING DRIVE “I declare, Eloise,” said Mrs. Evringham the next morning, “it is almost worth three whole days of storm to have a spell of such heavenly weather to follow. We're sure of several days like this now,” She was standing at the open window, having shown a surprising energy in rising soon after breakfast. She glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, who was picking up the garments strewn about the room. “Now you can live out of doors, I hope, and get yourself toned up again. Really, last evening things were very comfortable, weren't they?” “Yes. I thought the lump had begun to be leavened,” returned the girl. “Talk English, please,” said her mother vivaciously. “Father seemed quite human, and that is all we have ever needed to make things tolerable here. I suppose we reaped the benefit of his relief about the horse.” “It's all Jewel,” said Eloise, smiling. “That's English, isn't it?”