“I was passing your door this afternoon,” said Eloise, addressing Jewel, “and I heard you talking. I knew there was no one with you, and I feared you were very ill.” The little girl was always pleased when her beautiful cousin looked at her. “I guess I was reading. Of course I was in a hurry to get well, so as soon as the fever was gone and I felt comfortable, I began to read out loud from 'Science and Health' to Anna Belle. She's a Christian Scientist, too.” The faces of Mrs. Evringham and Eloise were studies as they gazed at the speaker. Mr. Evringham glanced at them maliciously under his heavy brows as Sarah brought in the second course. “Is Anna Belle your doll?” asked Eloise, for the moment sufficiently interested almost to lose her self-consciousness. “Yes,” eagerly. “Would you like to see her?” Jewel gave a fleeting glance at Mrs. Forbes. “She always comes to the table with me at home,” she added. “Sit still,” murmured Mrs. Forbes in low, sepulchral warning. “Now then, Jewel,” said Mr. Evringham as he began to serve the filet, “you didn't take the doctor's medicine. What do you think made that high fever go away?” The little girl looked up brightly. “Oh, I telegraphed to Mrs. Lewis, one of mother's friends in Chicago, to treat me.” “The dev--What do you mean, child?” Mr. Evringham gazed at her, and his tone was so fierce, although he was only very much amazed, that Jewel's smile faded. The corners of her lips drew down pitifully, and suddenly she slipped from her chair, and running to him threw her arms around his neck and buried her averted face, revealing two forlorn little flaxen pigtails devoid of ribbons. “What's this, Jewel?” he said quickly, fearfully embarrassed before his wondering audience. “This is very irregular, very irregular.” He dropped his fork perforce, and his hand closed over the little arm across his cravat. Jewel was trying to control a sob that struggled to escape, and saying over and over, as nearly as he could understand, something about God being Love. “Go right back to your chair now, like a good girl.” “Do you--love me?” whispered Jewel. “Yes--yes, I do.” “You spoke like”--a sob--“like hating.” “Not at all, not at all,” rejoined Mr. Evringham quickly, “but I was very much surprised, very.” “Shall I take her upstairs, sir?” asked Mrs. Forbes, nearly bursting with the outrage of such an interruption to her employer's sacred dinner. “No, she's going to sit right down in her chair and not make any trouble. Don't you like those roses I brought you, Jewel?” he added awkwardly, hoping to make a diversion. He was successful. She lowered her face, a fleeting April smile flitting over it. “Did grandfather bring you those lovely roses?” asked Eloise. Mr. Evringham flashed her his first glance of approval for so quickly taking the cue.