Mrs. Evringham followed Eloise into the brougham, smiling. “It couldn't be better,” she announced with much satisfaction as they drove away. “What?” “She is plain--oh, plain as possible. Small eyes, large mouth, insignificant nose. She will never get on with father. He never could endure ugliness in a girl or woman. I have heard him say it was unpardonable. If it hadn't been that we were what we are, Eloise, I should never have dreamed of doing as I have done. Now if only some good fairy would open your eyes to see which side your bread is buttered on! You could do marvels with such a foil for contrast.” CHAPTER VII THE FIRST EVENING In the excitement of the early morning start, Jewel had eaten little breakfast, but the soft resonance of the Japanese gong, when it sounded in the hall below, found her unready for food. However, she judged the mellow sound to be her summons and obediently left her seat by the window. As she went down she looked askance at the tall dark clock which, even as she passed, chimed the half hour melodiously. Certainly her important grandfather lived in a wonderful house. She paused to hear the last notes of the bells, but catching sight of the figure of Mrs. Forbes waiting below, she started and moved on. “That's right. Come along,” said the housekeeper. “Mr. Evringham likes everybody to be punctual in his house.” “Oh, has grandpa come home?” inquired Jewel eagerly. “No, he won't be home for hours yet. Come this way.” The little girl followed to the dining-room, which she thought quite as wonderful as the clock; but her admiration of all she saw was no longer unmixed. Mrs. Forbes seemed to cast a shadow. One place was laid at the table, one handsome chair was drawn up to it. Jewel longed to call Anna Belle's attention to the glittering array on the sideboard and behind the crystal doors of cabinets, but something withheld her. She looked questioningly at the housekeeper. “I think I'll draw up another chair for Anna Belle,” she said. Mrs. Forbes had already decided, from small signs of assurance, that this Western child was bold. “Give her an inch, and she'll take an ell,” she had said to herself. “I know her sort.” “Do you mean the doll?” she returned. “Put it down anywhere. You must never bring it to the table. Mr. Evringham wouldn't like it.” In silence Jewel seated the doll in the nearest chair against the wall, and as she slid up into her own, a neat maid appeared with a puffy and appetizing omelet. Mrs. Forbes filled the child's glass with water, and the maid set down the omelet and departed. Jewel's heart sank while Mrs. Forbes presented the souffle. “I'm sorry,” she began hesitatingly, “I never--I can't”--then she swallowed hard in her desperate plight. “Isn't it pretty?” she said rather breathlessly. “It's very good,” returned the housekeeper briefly, misconstruing the child's hesitation. “Shall I help you?” “I--could I have a drink of milk? I don't--I don't eat eggs.”