“Your father is not a Christian Scientist, I presume,” remarked Mr. Evringham. “Oh yes, he's learning to be. Of course he goes to church--” “He does, eh?” put in the broker, surprised. “Of course; and he studies the lesson with us every day. He had been sorry so much and so long, you know, mother said he was all ready; and beside--beside”--Jewel hesitated and became silent. “Beside what?” She began very softly and half reluctantly. “Father had a sickness two or three times when he first came home, and he was healed, and so he was very grateful and wanted to know about God.” “H'm. I'm glad he was. I hope he will make your mother very happy after this.” “He does.” The child lost her seriousness and laughed reminiscently. “Father and I have the _best_ times. Mothers says he's younger than I am.” “You miss him, eh?” Mr. Evringham half frowned into the fresh little face. “Oh yes, I do,” with a sigh, “but it would be error to be sorry when I could come to see you, grandpa.” Mr. Evringham cogitated a minute on the probable loneliness of the last three days, and began to wonder what this philosophy could be which gave practical help to a child of eight years. He was still holding the letter to Dr. Ballard in his hand. “I think I'll let you direct this yourself, Jewel,” he said. He rose and brought the morocco cushion to his desk chair. “Sit up here and I will tell you the address.” She obeyed, and Mr. Evringham watched the little fingers clenched around the pen as she strove to resist its tendency to write down hill on the envelope. “And you're quite sure that more money will be forthcoming when yours is gone, eh?” he asked when the feat was accomplished. “Oh yes; if I need it.” “How will it come, for instance?” She looked up quickly. “I don't need to know that,” she replied. Mr. Evringham bit his lip. “That's unanswerable,” he thought, “and rather neat.” At this moment a knock sounded at the library door, and a moment afterward Mrs. Forbes presented herself. “Excuse me, Mr. Evringham. I'm afraid Julia has been in your way, staying so long.” “No, Mrs. Forbes, thank you,” he returned. “She had a letter to write, and I have been reading.” “Very well. It is her bedtime now.” The housekeeper's tone was inexorable, and Jewel lifted her shoulders as she glanced up at her grandfather, and again he found himself taken into a confidence which excluded his excellent housekeeper. “It is better for us to yield,” said Jewel's shoulders and mute lips. Before Mr. Evringham could suspect her intention, she had jumped up on the cushion nimbly as a squirrel, and hugging him in a business-like manner, kissed him twice. “Good-night, grandpa.” “Good-night, Jewel,” he returned, going to the length of patting her shoulder. She jumped down and ran to Mrs. Forbes. “You needn't come with me, you know,” she said, holding up her face. Mrs. Forbes hesitated a moment. She had not as yet recovered from this latest liberty taken with the head of the house.