“I wish Mamzell would keep her finger out of this pie,” soliloquized Mrs. Forbes as she retraced her steps. When Mr. Evringham returned from the city, his first question, as Zeke met him, was concerning Jewel. “Mother says she's slept the most of the day,” replied the coachman, his head stiff in his high collar and his eyes looking straight ahead. “H'm. A good sign does she think, or is it stupor?” “I couldn't say, sir.” Reaching the house, a long pasteboard box in his hands, Mr. Evringham found that his grandchild was still asleep. “I fear the worst, Mrs. Forbes,” he said with nervous curtness. “When a stupor attacks children it is a very bad sign I am told. I'll just ring up Ballard.” He did so, but the doctor had gone out and was intending to call at the park before he returned. “I really think it is all right, Mr. Evringham,” said Mrs. Forbes, distressed by her employer's uneasiness. “Dr. Ballard expected she'd sleep a great deal. He told me not to disturb her.” “Oh, very well then, perhaps it is not to be regretted. Kindly put those roses in the deep vase, Mrs. Forbes.” “Yes, sir.” She took up the box. “Besides, Mr. Evringham, if she does get worse, you know the hospital here is one of the very best, and you”-- Mr. Evringham wheeled and frowned upon the speaker fiercely. “Hospital!” he ejaculated. “An extraordinary suggestion, Mrs. Forbes! Most extraordinary! My granddaughter remains in my house.” Mrs. Forbes, crimson with surprise and mortification, retreated. “Very well, sir,” she faltered. “Will you have the roses on the dinner table, Mr. Evringham?” “No. Set them here on my desk if you please.” With this Mr. Evringham began walking up and down the floor, pausing once to take up the yellow chicken. During the day the soft moan, “I wanted you so all night, grandpa,” had been ringing in his ears. “Mrs. Forbes has no understanding of the child,” he muttered, “and of course I cannot expect anything from the cat and her kitten.” With this he began again his promenade. Mrs. Forbes returned with the roses, and simultaneously Mr. Evringham saw Essex Maid arching her neck as she picked her steps past the window. “By the way,” he said curtly, “let Zeke take the Maid back to the barn. I'll not ride to-day.” “It's very fine weather, sir,” protested Mrs. Forbes. “I'll not ride. I'll wait here for Dr. Ballard.” The housekeeper went forth to give the order. “I never saw Mr. Evringham so upset in my life,” she said in an awestruck tone. “I saw the governor wasn't real comfortable,” returned the boy. “Guess he's afraid he's goin' to catch the mumps or something. It would be real harrowin' if he got any worse case of big head than he's got already.” Mr. Evringham was little accustomed to waiting, and by the time Dr. Ballard appeared, his nervousness had become painful. “The child's slept too much, I'm sure of it, Ballard,” was his greeting. “I don't know what we're going to find up there, I declare I don't.”