CHAPTER IX
A SHOPPING EXPEDITION
The housekeeper warned Jewel not to run out of doors that morning as she wished to accompany her to the shoe store.
“I'm not going to take you, Anna Belle,” Jewel said to her doll. “I don't like to ask the giantess if I may, and of course, it won't be a very good time anyway, so you be patient and we'll go out together this afternoon.”
Mrs. Forbes's long widow's veil, a decoration she never had discarded hung low over her black gown as she stepped deliberately down the stairs from her barn chamber.
“I am going with the little girl, Zeke, to buy her a pair of rubbers,” she announced to her son.
“Going foot-back? Why don't you have out the 'broom'? One granddaughter's got as good a right to it as the other, hasn't she?”
“I should say so, but that child, Zeke, in addition to her wonderful boldness this morning with Mr. Evringham, that I told you about, is perfectly crazy over horses.”
“H'm. That don't surprise me. A young one that can stand up to the governor wouldn't be afraid of anything in the way of horseflesh.”
“So I decided,” continued Mrs. Forbes, pulling on her roomy black gloves, “that it would be better for her to go this morning in the trolley.”
“You did? Well if that ain't a regular step-mother act!” returned Zeke in protest. “The kid had a bully time coming home from the depot yesterday. Dick felt good, and he just lit out. I tell you her eyes shone.”
“I like to do what's best for folks in the end,” declared Mrs. Forbes virtuously. “Julia's parents are poor, and likely to be. She's only going to be here six weeks, and what is the sense of encouraging a taste she can't ever indulge? No, I'll take her in the trolley. It's a nice morning, and I shan't mind the walk down to the gate.” The speaker marched with the dignity which was always inseparable from the veil toward the back door of the house to give some last orders, and Zeke lounged out with his rake toward the grounds at the front. There he caught sight of a small figure in hat and jacket waiting on the piazza. He turned toward it, and Jewel advanced with a smile of recognition. She had had to look twice to identify her fine plum-colored companion of yesterday's drive with this youth in shirt sleeves and a soft old hat.
“Well, little girl, how are you getting on?” he asked.
“Pretty well, thank you.” Her beaming expression left no doubt that she was very glad to see him.
“Not particularly flattering if she is,” he mused. “Fine ladies not out of their rooms yet, and ma doin' her duty by her to beat the band.”
“Where's your doll?” he asked.
“I didn't bring her. I thought perhaps the—Mrs. Forbes would—would just as lief she didn't come.”
“Ma hasn't played with dolls for quite a spell,” agreed Zeke, with a smile that was sunshine to the child.
“You live out in the barn with the horses, don't you?” she asked eagerly. “Will you give me permission to go out there some time?”
“Sure. Come any time.”
“Mrs. Forbes said I must ask permission,” responded the child with an apprehensive glance behind her to see if her escort were arriving. “What—what is your name?”
“Forgotten this soon? I told you Zeke.”
“I thought you did, but your mother said it was something very different.”
“Ezekiel, perhaps.”
“Yes, that's it. I won't forget again. How many horses has grandpa?”
“Two here, but I guess he's got more in the country. You come out to the barn any time you feel like it. You've heard of a bell cow, haven't you? Well, we've got the belle horse out there. She beats all creation.”
“The one I saw yesterday,” eagerly, “the one that runs away all the time?”
“No. This is Mr. Evringham's riding horse.”
Jewel hopped and clapped her hands. “I'll see grandpa ride. Goody! I'll watch him.”
“Go to your paths, Zeke,” said a voice, and the veil appeared around the corner of the house.
Jewel quietly joined her stately companion, and walked away sedately beside her.
They did not exchange many words on their way to the park gates, for Mrs. Forbes needed her breath for the rather long promenade, and Jewel was busy looking at the trees and trim swards and crocus beds beside the winding road.
Outside the gate they had to wait but a minute before the car came, and after they had boarded it, the little girl was entertained by looking out of the window, and often wished for Anna Belle's sympathy in some novel sight or sound.
A ride of fifteen minutes brought them to the shoe store. Mrs. Forbes seemed to know the clerk, and Jewel was finally fitted to her guardian's satisfaction, but scarcely to her own, the housekeeper having selected the species known as storm rubbers, and chose them as large as would stay on.
“They're quite warm, aren't they?” said Jewel, looking down at her shiny feet and trying to speak cheerfully.
“When you wear them you want to be warm,” was Mrs. Forbes's rejoinder.
“I brought my money,” said the child, in a low voice.
“No. Your grandfather wishes to make you a present of these.” The housekeeper's tone was final, and she paid for the overshoes, which were wrapped up, and then she led Jewel out of the store.
Next door was a candy shop with alluring windows.
“I'd like to go in here,” said the little girl. “Would you mind?”
“Do you spend your money for candy, Julia?”
“Yes'm. Don't you like it?” Jewel lingered, looking at the pretty display. Easter had recently passed, and there were bright-eyed little yellow chickens that especially took her fancy.
“It isn't a question of liking it when people are poor,” returned Mrs. Forbes. “I'm astonished that your mother encourages you to spend money for candy.”
Jewel looked up quickly. “Did you think we were poor?” she asked, with disconcerting suddenness.
Mrs. Forbes hesitated. “Your mother is a dressmaker, isn't she?”
“Yes, she's just a splendid one. Everybody says so. We couldn't be poor, you know. She found out about God before I was old enough to talk, so you see all her poor time came before I can remember.”
The housekeeper glanced about her furtively. “Julia, don't you know you shouldn't use your Creator's name on the street!” she exclaimed, when she had made certain that no one was listening.
“Why not?” asked the child.
“Why—why—it isn't a proper place. Some one might hear you.”
“Well, won't you let me get some candy now? If I knew what kind you liked, Mrs. Forbes, I'd get it.”
“I don't eat candy as a rule. It's not only extravagant, it's very unhealthy.”
The little girl smiled. “How do you suppose your stomach knows what you put into it?” she asked. “I guess you're just a little—bit—afraid, aren't you?”
“Odder than Dick's hatband!” quoth Mrs. Forbes again, mentally. “I take horehound drops sometimes,” she said aloud, “for a cold.”
“Can't you sneeze a little now?” asked Jewel, amusement twinkling in her blue eyes. “I do want so much to go in here.”
“Don't tempt Providence by making fun of sickness, Julia, or you'll live to regret it,” returned Mrs. Forbes. “I don't mind getting some horehound drops, but be careful now and don't spend too much. A little girl's money always burns in her pocket.”
“Yes'm,” returned the child dutifully, skipping up to the door of the shop and opening it.
Mrs. Forbes followed slowly, and once inside, fell into conversation with the girl of whom she bought the cough candy. This gave Jewel opportunity to buy beside her caramels one of the lovely yellow chickens, which she designed for a special purpose.
“Now don't you eat that candy before lunch. It will take away your appetite. It is nearly lunch time now,” said Mrs. Forbes as they left the store.
“And won't you either?” asked the child, offering the open caramel bag with a spontaneous politeness which somehow made the housekeeper feel at a disadvantage.
“No, thank you. Stop that car, Julia, and make them wait for me,” she said, making haste slowly.
Once within, it took Mrs. Forbes a minute or two to get her breath, but she soon noticed that her companion's eyes were fixed upon a man seated a little way from them across the car. A smile kept coming to the child's lips, and at last the gentleman himself recognized that he was an object of interest. He looked at the strange little girl kindly. Her hand went unconsciously to the small gold pin she wore. The man smiled and touched one of similar pattern which was fastening his tie. In a minute more his street was reached, and as he passed Jewel on his way out of the car, he stooped and gave her ready hand a little pressure.
She colored with pleasure, and Mrs. Forbes swelled with curiosity and disapproval. She knew the man by sight as a highly respectable citizen. What was this wild Western child doing now? The car made too much noise to permit of investigation, so she waited until they had left it and entered the park gates.
“Julia,” she said then, “where did you ever see that gentleman before?”
“I never did,” replied the child.
“What do you mean by such bold actions, then? What will he think of you?”
“He'll think it's all right,” returned Jewel. “We have the same—the same friends.”
The housekeeper looked at her. It was beneath her dignity to ask further questions at present, but some time she meant to renew the subject.
“It's very wrong for a little girl to take any notice of strangers,” she said.
“Yes'm,” replied Jewel, “but he was—different.”
Mrs. Forbes maintained silence henceforth until they reached home. “You may hang your hat and jacket in the closet under the stairs whenever you don't wish to go to your room,” she said when she parted with her companion at the piazza, “but don't wander away anywhere before lunch.”
“No'm. Thank you for taking me, Mrs. Forbes.”
“You're welcome,” returned that lady, and the long black veil swept majestically toward the barn.
Sweet and rippling music was proceeding from the house. Jewel tiptoed across the piazza to a long window, from whence she could see the interior of the drawing-room.
“It is the enchanted maiden,” she said to herself, and sank down softly by the window, listening eagerly to the melodious strains and smooth runs which flowed from beneath the slender fingers. One piece followed another in quick succession, now gay, now grave, and the listener scarcely stirred in her enjoyment.
At last, suddenly, in the midst of a Grieg melody, the player ceased, and crossing her arms upon the empty music rack, bowed her head upon them in such an attitude of abandon that Jewel's heart leaped in sympathy.
“Oh cousin Eloise! What makes her so sorry?” she thought. The child's intuition had been strong to perceive the nature of her aunt Madge. “It must be such an awful thing to have your own mother an error fairy. That must be the reason. I wish I could tell her”—Jewel jumped to her feet, but just as she was determining to go to her cousin, the soft-toned gong pealed its mellow summons, and she saw Eloise rise from the piano in time to meet her mother, who at that moment entered the room.
Jewel went into the house, hung up her hat and jacket, and deposited her packages. By the time she reached the dining-room her aunt and cousin were already seated. Mrs. Evringham put up her lorgnette as she greeted the child. Eloise nodded a grave good-morning, and Mrs. Forbes began to serve the luncheon.
Jewel looked in vain for any trace of excitement or tears on her cousin's lovely face. Eloise did not address her or any one. Mrs. Evringham did the talking. After a question as to how Jewel had spent the morning, and without listening to the child's reply, she began to talk to her daughter of a drive she wished to take that afternoon.
Jewel discerned that Mrs. Forbes was not kindly disposed toward the mother and daughter, and that they ignored the housekeeper; that Eloise was languid and out of sympathy with her mother, and that Mrs. Evringham was impatient with her, often to the verge of sharpness. The child was glad when luncheon was over; but before going upstairs she brought her small bag of caramels and offered them to the ladies.
Mrs. Evringham gave a little laugh of surprise and looked at Eloise, who took one with a sober “Thank you.”
“I don't believe I could, child,” said aunt Madge, glancing with amusement at the striped bag. “Keep them for yourself.”
“You'll have some, won't you, Mrs. Forbes?” asked Jewel, and the housekeeper so strongly disapproved of Mrs. Evringham's manner that she accepted.
“Perhaps you would like to try some of our candy, Julia,” said Mrs. Evringham, as the child followed her aunt and cousin upstairs.
Jewel paused while aunt Madge brought from her room into the hall a large box, beribboned and laced, full of a variety of confections.
“How pretty!” exclaimed the child.
“This is from your friend, Dr. Ballard,” said her aunt. “He sent it to the charming little girl, Eloise.”
Jewel, running on up to her room eating the creamy chocolate, wondered still more why her cousin should seem so sorry, with so much to make her happy.
“Now, Anna Belle, the time has really come,” she said happily to her doll, as she took her in her arms and began putting on her jacket and hat. “We're going away from Castle Discord to seek our fortunes. We're going to leave the giantess, and leave the impolite error fairy, and leave the poor enchanted maiden, and go to find the ravine and the brook. Wait till I put on my oldest shoes, for we shall have to climb deep, deep down to get near to father.”
At last she was ready, and when she had closed the heavy house door behind her, and had run down the driveway to the park road, a delicious sense of freedom possessed her.
“There goes the little Westerner,” observed Mrs. Evringham, looking from her window. “It's a good thing she knows how to amuse herself.”
“A good thing, indeed,” returned Eloise. “There is no one here to do anything for her.”
“She has wonderful assurance for such a plain little monkey,” went on Mrs. Evringham.
“She has extremely good breeding,” returned her daughter, coming to the window and following Jewel's retreating figure with her eyes, “and a charming face when she smiles.”
“Very well. Look out for yourself, then. I thought last night, once or twice, at dinner, that she was rather entertaining to her grandfather.”
“She has her doll,” said Eloise wistfully. “Where can she be going? I wish I were going with her.”
Mrs. Evringham laughed. “Well, you are bored. Pshaw, my dear! Lie down and get a little beauty sleep. Then we will go driving and see that charming spot Dr. Ballard told us about. I'm sure he will call to-night.”
CHAPTER X
THE RAVINE
Outside the well-kept roads of Bel-Air Park, Nature had been encouraged to work her sweet will. The drive wound along the edge of a picturesque gorge, and it was not long before Jewel found the scene of her father's favorite stories.
The sides of the ravine were studded with tall trees, and in its depths flowed a brook, unusually full now from the spring rains.
The child lost no time in creeping beneath the slender wire fence at the roadside, and scrambling down the incline. The brook whispered and gurgled, wild flowers sprang amid the ferns in the shelter and moisture. The child was enraptured.
“Oh, Anna Belle!” She exclaimed, hugging the doll for pure joy. “Castle Discord is far away. There's nobody down here but God!”
For hours she played happily in the enchanting spot, all unconscious of time. Anna Belle lay on a bed of moss, while Jewel became acquainted with her wonderful new playmate, the brook. The only body of water with which she had been familiar hitherto was Lake Michigan. Now she drew stones out of the bank and made dams and waterfalls. She sailed boats of chips and watched them shoot the tiny rapids. She lay down on the bank beside Anna Belle and gazed up through the leafy treetops. Many times this programme had been varied, when at last equipages began to pass on the road above. She could see twinkling wheels and smart liveries.
With a start of recollection, she considered that she might have been a long time in the ravine.
“I wish somebody would let me bring a watch the next time,” she said to her doll, as she took her up. “Haven't we had a beautiful afternoon, Anna Belle? Let's call it the Ravine of Happiness, and we'll come here every day—just every day; but perhaps it's time for grandpa to be home, dearie, so we must go back to the castle.” She sighed unconsciously as she began climbing up the steep bank and crept under the wire. “I hope we haven't stayed very long, because the giantess might not like it,” she continued uneasily; but as she set her feet in the homeward road, every sensation of anxiety fled before an approaching vision. She saw a handsome man in riding dress mounted on a shining horse with arched neck, that lifted its feet daintily as it pranced along the tree-lined avenue.
“Grandpa!” ejaculated Jewel, stepping to the roadside and pausing, her hands clasped beneath her chin and her eyes shining with admiration.
Mr. Evringham drew rein, not displeased by the encounter. The child apparently could not speak. She eyed the horse rather than its rider, a fact which the latter observed and enjoyed.
“Remind you of the horse show?” he inquired.
“It is the horse show,” rejoined the child.
“This is Essex Maid, Jewel,” said Mr. Evringham. He patted the mare's shining neck. “You shall go out to the barn with me some time and visit her.” His eyes wandered over the ruffled hair, the hat on the back of the child's head, and the wet spots on her dress. “Run home now,” he added. “I heard Mrs. Forbes asking for you as I came out.”
He rode on, and Jewel, her face radiant, followed him with her eyes. In a minute he turned, and she threw rapid kisses after him. He raised his hat, and then a curve in the road hid him from view.
Jewel sighed rapturously and hurried along the road. The giantess had asked for her. Ah, what a happy world it would be if there were nothing at Bel-Air Park but grandpa, his horses, and the ravine!
Mrs. Forbes espied the child in the distance, and was at the door when she came in.
“After this, Julia, you must never go away without telling me where”—she began, when her eyes recognized the condition of the gingham frock, and the child's feet. “Look at how you've drabbled your dress!” she ejaculated.
“It's clean water,” returned Julia.
“But your feet! Why, Julia Evringham, they are as wet as sop! Where have you been?”
“Playing by the brook in the ravine.”
Mrs. Forbes groaned. “Nothing will satisfy a child but finding the place where they can get the dirtiest and make the most trouble. Why didn't you wear your rubbers, you naughty girl?”
“Why—why—it wasn't raining.”
“Raining! Those rubbers are to keep your feet dry. Haven't you got any sense?”
Jewel looked a little pale. “I didn't know I should get wet in the brook,” she answered.
“Well, go right upstairs now, up the backstairs, and take off every one of those wet things. Let me feel your petticoat. Yes, that's wet, too. You undress and get into a hot bath, and then you put on your nightgown and go right to bed.”
“Go to bed!” echoed the child, bewildered.
“Yes, to bed. You won't come down to dinner. Perhaps that will teach you to wear your rubbers next time and be more careful.”
Jewel found the backstairs and ascended them, her little heart hot within her.
“She's the impolitest woman in the whole world, Anna Belle!” she whispered. “I'm going to not cry. Mother didn't know what impoliteness there was at grandpa's or she wouldn't have let us come.”
The child's eyes were bright as she found her room and began undressing. “But you mustn't be angry, dearie,” she continued excitedly to her doll. “It's the worst error to be angry, because it means hating. You treat me, Anna Belle, and I'll treat you,” she went on, unfastening her clothes with unsteady hands.
With many a pause to work at a refractory elastic or button, and many interruptions from catches in her breath, she murmured aloud during the process of her undressing: “Dear Father in Heaven, I seem to feel sorry all over, and full of error. Help me to know that I'm not a mortal mind little girl, hating and angry, but I am Thy child, and the only things I know are good, happy things. Error has no power and Love has all power. I love Mrs. Forbes, and she loves me. Thou art here even in this house, and please help me to know that one of Thy children cannot hurt another.” Here Jewel slipped into the new wrapper her mother had made, and hurried into the white tiled bathroom near by. While she let the water run into the tub she put her hand into her pocket mechanically, in search of a handkerchief, and when she felt the crisp touch of paper she drew it out eagerly. It was covered, and she read the words written in her mother's distinct hand.
“Love to my Jewel. Is she making a stepping-stone of every trial, and learning to think less and less about herself, and more and more about other people? And does she remember that little girls cannot always understand the error that grown-up people have to meet, especially those who have not Science to help them? They must be treated very gently, and I hope my little Jewel will be always kind and patient, and make her new friends glad she is there.”
The child folded the paper and put it carefully back in her pocket. Then she took her bath, and returning to her room undressed her doll in silence. Finally, changing her wrapper for her nightdress, she climbed into bed, where she lay thinking and looking at the sunlight on the wall.
At dinner time the maid Sarah appeared with a tray. “Here's your dinner, Miss Julia,” she said, looking at the heavy-eyed little girl. “It's too bad you're not well.”
“I am well, thank you,” replied Jewel. “I'm sorry you had to carry that heavy tray up so many stairs.”
“Oh, I don't mind that,” returned the girl good-naturedly. “I'll set it right here by the bed.”
“Is grandpa down there?” asked Jewel wistfully.
“Yes, Miss Julia. They're all eating their dinner. I hope you'll enjoy yours.”
Sarah went away, and the little girl spread some bread and butter and ate it slowly.
Meanwhile, when the family had gathered at the dinner table, Mr. Evringham looked up at his housekeeper.
“Where is Jewel?” he asked shortly. “I object to her being unpunctual.”
“Yes, sir. She is having dinner in her room. She was very naughty and got wet in the brook.”
“Ah, indeed!” Mr. Evringham frowned and looked down. He had been a little disappointed that the bright face was not watching to see him come home from his ride, but of course discipline must be maintained. “I'm sorry to hear this,” he added.
Mrs. Evringham and Eloise found him a shade less taciturn than usual to-night. He felt vaguely that he now had an ally of his own flesh and blood in the house, a spirit sufficiently kindred to prefer his society to theirs, and this made him unusually lenient.
He meant to go upstairs after dinner, and warn Jewel to be more careful in future to conform to all Mrs. Forbes's rules; but the meal was scarcely over when a friend called to get him to attend some business meeting held that evening in the interests of the town, and he became interested in his statements and went away with him.
“Wasn't father quite agreeable this evening?” asked Mrs. Evringham of Eloise. “What did I tell you? I could see that he felt relief because that plain little creature was not in evidence. Father always was so fastidious. Of course it is selfish in a way, but it is no use to blame men for caring for beauty. They will do it.”
“It was a shame to make that little girl stay upstairs,” returned Eloise. “I judge she managed to amuse herself this afternoon, and so she gets punished for it. I should like to go up and sit with her.”
“It would not be worth while,” returned Mrs. Evringham quickly. “I'm sure Dr. Ballard will be here soon. You would have to come right down again.”
“That is not the reason I don't go,” returned the girl. “It is because I am not an Evringham, and I have determined not to arrive at friendly relations with any one of the name. When I once escape from here, they will have seen the last of me.”
“The way of escape lies open,” returned her mother soothingly. “I'm glad you have on that gown. If a man cares for a woman, he always loves to see her in white.”
As soon as dinner was over, Mrs. Forbes ascended the stairs to see her prisoner. Jewel was lying quietly in bed, the tray, apparently untouched, beside her. The latter circumstance Mrs. Forbes observed at once.
“Why haven't you eaten your dinner, Julia?” she asked. “I hope you are not sulking.”
“No'm. I don't believe I am. I don't know what that means.”
“You don't know what sulky means?” suspiciously. “It is very naughty for a little girl to refuse to eat her dinner because she is angry at being punished for her own good.”
“Did you send me to bed because you loved me?” asked Jewel. Her cheeks were very red, but even the disconcerted housekeeper could see that she was not excited or angry.
“Everybody loves good little girls,” returned Mrs. Forbes. “Now eat your dinner, Julia, so I can carry down the tray.”
“I did eat the bread. It was all I wanted. It was very nice.”
The polite addition made the housekeeper uncertain. While she paused Jewel added, “I wish I could see grandpa.”
“He's gone out on business. He won't be back until after you are asleep. And if you were thinking of complaining to him, Julia, I tell you it won't do any good. He will trust everything to me.”
“Do you think I would trouble grandpa?” returned the child.
The housekeeper looked at her in silent perplexity. The blue eyes were direct and innocent, but there was a heaviness about them that stirred Mrs. Forbes uncomfortably.
“You must have got too tired playing this afternoon, Julia,” she said decisively, “or you would be hungry for your dinner. You took that hot bath I told you to?”
“Yes'm.”
“Where have you put your wet things? Oh, I see, you've spread them out very nicely; but those shoes—I shall have to have them cleaned and polished for you. Now go to sleep as quick as you can and have a long night's rest. I'm sure the next time you go out you won't be so careless.”
Jewel's eyes followed the speaker as she bustled about and at last took up the tray.
“Will you kiss me good-night, Mrs. Forbes?” asked the child.
The surprised housekeeper set down her burden, stooped over the bed and kissed her.
“There now, I see you're sorry,” she said, somewhat touched.
Jewel gave her a little smile. “No'm, I've stopped being sorry,” she replied.
“She'd puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer,” soliloquized the housekeeper as she descended the stairs with the tray. “I suppose her mother is uneducated and uses queer English. As the old ones croak, the young ones learn. The child uses words nobody ever heard of, and is ignorant of the commonest ones. I'm glad she's so fond of me if I've got to take care of her.”
CHAPTER XI
DR. BALLARD
Mr. Evringham looked about, half in apprehension, half in anticipation, as he entered the dining-room the following morning. Jewel had not arrived, so he settled himself to read his paper. Each time there was a sound he glanced up, bracing himself for the approach of light feet, beaming face, and an ardent embrace. His interest in the news gradually lessened, and his expectancy increased. She did not come. At last he began to suspect that the unprecedented had happened, and that Mrs. Forbes herself was late.
He looked at his watch with suddenly rising amazement. It was ten minutes past the appointed time. He began feeling around with his foot for the electric bell. It was an unaccustomed movement, for his wishes were usually anticipated. By the time he found it, he had become a seriously injured man, and the peal he rang summoned Sarah suddenly.
“Bring me my coffee at once, if you please. What is the matter?”
The maid did not know. He was drinking his first cup when the housekeeper entered the room, flushed of countenance.
“You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Evringham. I couldn't come a minute sooner. Julia is sick.”
“Sick! I should like to know why?”
“Why, she got sopping wet in that brook yesterday, and here, just as I knew it would be, she's got a fever.”
“A fever, eh?” repeated Mr. Evringham in a startled tone.
“Yes, sir, and what's more, when I told her you would send for the doctor, it was worse than about the rubbers. She talked all the rubbish you can think of. I'm sure she's flighty—said she never had a doctor, that she always got well, and even cried when I told her that that was nonsense.”
“Was she ill all night, do you think?”
“I don't know. I found her trying to get up when I went to her room, and I saw at once that she wasn't able to.
“Well, Mrs. Forbes, all I can do is to ask your pardon for adding so much to your cares. Let Sarah bring me my eggs, and then, if you please, telephone for Dr. Ballard to come over before his office hour.”
“I will, sir, but I'll ask you to see the child before you go to town and make her promise to behave about the doctor. You'd have thought I was asking to let in a roaring lion.”
“Shy, probably.”
“Shy! That child shy!” thought Mrs. Forbes.
“She knows Dr. Ballard,” continued the broker, “and if you had thought to mention him, she wouldn't have made any fuss.”
“If you'll excuse me differing with you, Mr. Evringham, I don't think that child's got a shy bone in her body. In the trolley car yesterday, didn't she make up to a perfect stranger! She eyed him and fingered that little gold pin she wears, till he smiled and touched one of the same pattern in his own cravat. Young as she is, she's some kind of a free mason or secret society, you may be sure. I actually saw him take her hand and give her the grip as he got out of the car. Why you know who it is, it was Mr. Reeves of Highland Street.”
“H'm. You are imaginative, Mrs. Forbes. Mr. Reeves is fond of children, and Jewel has a friendly way of looking at people.”
The housekeeper bridled. “Well, all is, I guess, you'll find I ain't imaginative when you come to talk with her about the doctor,” was the firm response. “When I said medicine she looked as scared as if I'd said poison.”
“H'm. Been dosed then. Mother an allopath probably. Burnt child dreads the fire. I think homeopathy is the thing for children. Guy will do very well. Call him up at once, please. He might go out.”
When Mr. Evringham had finished his breakfast, he climbed to the white room, planning as he went a short and peremptory speech to the rebellious one; for he had less time left than usual for his daily talk with his housekeeper before catching the train.
The curtains in the room were half drawn as he entered, and the child's figure looked small in the big white bed. She exclaimed as he drew near, and seizing his hand, kissed it.
“You'd better not kiss me, grandpa, because I'm so hot and uncomfortable,” she said thickly. “Oh, how I wanted to see you all night!”
The little hands clinging to his were burning. He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I'm very sorry for this, Jewel. It's your own fault, I understand, my girl.”
“Yes, I know it is. When I first called the house Castle Discord and talked to Anna Belle about the error fairy, and the enchanted maiden, and the giantess, I didn't see it was hate creeping in and making me not careful to deny it all. I know it is all my fault.”
Mr. Evringham gazed at the flushed face with startled eyes. “Dear me, this is really very bad!” he thought. “Delirious so early in the morning. I wish Guy would come!”
“Well, we'll soon have Dr. Ballard here,” he said aloud, trying to speak soothingly. “He'll set you all right very soon.”
“Oh, grandpa, dear grandpa,” with the utmost earnestness, “would you please not send for the doctor? I won't be any trouble. I don't want anything to eat, only a drink of water, and I'll soon be well.”
Her beseeching tone and her helplessness touched some unsuspected chord in her listener's breast.
“Jewel, don't you want to go out to the stable with me and feed Essex Maid with sugar?” he asked.
“Yes, grandpa,” with a half sob.
“You don't want me to be unhappy and worried about you when I get into my office?”
“No, grandpa.”
“And you liked Dr. Ballard, I'm sure, when you came out with him on the train day before yesterday.”
“Day before yesterday! Oh, was it? It seems a year ago! But I wanted to come and see you so much I was willing to let father and mother go away, and I never thought that I wouldn't know when error was getting hold of me.
“Well, never mind now, Jewel. Dr. Ballard will help you, and as soon as you get well I'll take you for a fine long drive, if you'll be good. I'm sure you don't want to trouble me.”
“No.” Another half sob caught the child's throat. “Here is something I bought for you yesterday, grandpa.” She drew from under the further pillow the yellow chicken, somewhat disheveled, and put it in his hand. “I meant to give it to you last night, but Mrs. Forbes kept me upstairs because she thought she ought to make me sorry, and so I couldn't.”
The stockbroker cleared his throat as he regarded his new possession. “It was kind of you, Jewel,” he returned. “I shall stand it on my desk. Now—ahem”—looking around the big empty room, “you won't be lonely, I hope, until the doctor comes?”
“No, I'd like to be alone, I have so much work to do.”
“Dear me, dear me!” thought Mr. Evringham, “this is very distressing. She seems to have lucid intervals, and then so quickly gets flighty again.”
“Besides, I like to think of the Ravine of Happiness,” continued the child, “and the brook. Supposing I could lay my cheek down in the brook now. The water is so cool, and it laughs and whispers such pretty things.”
“Now if you would try to go to sleep, Jewel,” said Mr. Evringham, “it would please me very much. Good-by. I shall come to see you again to-night.” He stooped his tall form and kissed the child's forehead, and her hot lips pressed his hand, then he went out.
At the foot of the stairs he encountered Mrs. Forbes waiting, and hastily put behind him the hand that held the chicken.
“Well, sir?”
“She's very badly off, very badly off, I'm afraid.”
“I hope not, sir. Children are always flighty if they have a little fever. What about dinner, sir?”
“Have anything you please,” returned Mr. Evringham briefly. “I wish to see Dr. Ballard as soon as he arrives. Tell Zeke I shall not go until the next train.” With these words the broker entered his study, and his housekeeper looked after him in amazement. It was the first time she had ever seen him indifferent concerning his dinner.
“I wonder if he thinks she's got something catching,” she soliloquized. Then a sudden thought occurred to her. “No great loss without some small gain,” she thought grimly. “'T would clear the house.”
She watched at the window until she saw Dr. Ballard's buggy approaching. Then she opened the door and met him.
“Your little visitor do you say?” asked the young doctor as he greeted her and entered. “What mischief has she been up to so soon?”
“Oh, the usual sort,” returned Mrs. Forbes, and recounted her grievances. “She's the oddest child in the world,” she finished, “and her last freak is that she doesn't want to have a doctor.”
“Dear me, what heresy!” The young man smiled. “Which room, Mrs. Forbes?”
“Please go into the library first, Dr. Ballard. Mr. Evringham is waiting to see you.”
The broker was sitting before his desk as the doctor entered, and he turned with a brief greeting.
“I'm glad you've come, Ballard. I'm very much troubled about the child. Her father and mother abroad you understand, and I feel the responsibility. She seems very flighty, quite wild in her talk at moments. I wished to warn you that one of her feverish ideas is that she doesn't want a doctor. You will have to use some tact.”
The physician's face lost its careless smile. “Delirious, you say?”
“Yes, go right up, Guy. I'll wait for you here. It's so sudden. She was quite well, to all appearances, yesterday.”
“Children are sensitive little mortals,” remarked Dr. Ballard, and then Mrs. Forbes ushered him up to the white room. He asked her to remain within call, and entered alone.
The child's eyes were open as he approached the bed, the black case she remembered in his hand. By her expression he saw that her mind was clear.
“Well, well, Jewel, this isn't the way I meant you to receive me the first time I called,” he said pleasantly, drawing up a chair beside the bed. The child put out her hand to his offered one and tried to smile. As he held the hand he felt her pulse. “This isn't the way to behave when you go visiting,” he added.
“I know it isn't,” returned Jewel contritely.
“The next time you go wading in the brook, take off your shoes and stockings, little one, and I think you would better wait until later in the season, anyway. You've made quick work of this business.” As he talked the doctor took his little thermometer out of its case. “Now then, let me slip this under your tongue.”
“What is it?” asked Jewel, shrinking.
“What! Haven't you ever had your temperature tried? Well, you have been a healthy little girl! All the better. Just take it under your tongue, and don't speak for a minute, please.”
“Please don't ask me to. I can't.”
“There's nothing to be afraid of. It won't hurt you.” The doctor smiled.
“I know what that is now,” said Jewell, regarding the little tube. “A man was cured of paralysis once by having a thing like that stuck in his mouth. He thought it was meant to cure him. I haven't paralysis.”
The doctor began to consider that perhaps Mr. Evringham had not exaggerated. “Come, Jewel,” he said kindly. “I thought we were such good friends. You are wasting my time.”
A moment more of hesitation, and then the child suddenly opened her mouth and accepted the thermometer. She kept her eyes closed during the process of waiting, and at last Dr. Ballard took out the little instrument and examined it.
“Let me see your tongue.”
The child stared in surprise.
“Put out your tongue, Jewel,” he repeated kindly.
“But that is impolite,” she protested.
He changed his position. The poor little thing was flighty, and no wonder, with such a temperature. He took her hand again. “I'll overlook the impoliteness. Run out your tongue now. Far as you can, dear.”
The child obeyed.
Presently she said, “I feel very uncomfortable, Dr. Ballard. I don't feel a bit like visiting, so if you wouldn't mind going away until I feel better. You interrupted me when you came in. I have lots of work to do yet. When I get well I'd just love to see you. I'd rather see you than almost anybody in Bel-Air.”
“Yes, yes, dear. I'll go away very soon. Where does your throat feel sore? Put your finger on the place.”
Jewel looked up with all the rebuke she could convey. “You ought not to ask me that,” she returned.
Dr. Ballard rose and went to the door. “Get me a glass of water, please, Mrs. Forbes.”
“Not a glass. I want a whole pitcher full right side of me,” said Jewel.
“Yes, a pitcher full also, if you please, Mrs. Forbes. Just let the maid bring them up.”
The doctor returned to the bedside. “Now we'll soon forget that you wet those little feet,” he said.
“That didn't do me any harm, that clean sweet brook. Mrs. Forbes didn't know what was the real matter.”
“What was it, then?”
“My own fault,” said Jewel, speaking with feverish quickness and squeezing the doctor's hand. “When I came here I found that nobody loved one another and everybody was afraid and sorry, and instead of denying it and helping them, I began voicing error and calling them names. I didn't keep remembering that God was here, and I called it Castle Discord and called Mrs. Forbes the giantess, and aunt Madge the error fairy, and cousin Eloise the enchanted maiden, and of course how could I help getting sick?”
Dr. Ballard leaned toward her. Was this an impromptu tale, or was it a fact that this child had been coldly treated and unhappy? “You have a sensitive conscience, Jewel,” he returned.
Here Sarah entered, set down the tray with pitcher, glasses, and spoon, and departed. The doctor loosed the little hand he had been holding, took up his case, and opened it.
Jewel watched him with apprehension. “That's—medicine isn't it?” she asked with bated breath.
“Yes.” The doctor carefully selected a bottle of liquid and set it on the table. “I think this one will do us.”
Jewel's remark on the train about materia medica recurred to him, and he smiled.
“Dr. Ballard, aren't you a Christian?” she asked suddenly.
He glanced up. “I hope so.”
“Then you'll forgive me if I won't take medicine. I put out my tongue, and I sucked the little glass thing because I didn't want to trouble you; but I have too much faith in God to take medicine.” The child looked at the doctor appealingly.
He began to see light, and in his surprise, for a moment he did not reply.
“Jesus Christ would have used drugs if they had been right,” she added.
“But He isn't here now,” returned the astonished young man.
“Why, Dr. Ballard,” in gentle reproach, “Christ is the Truth of God. Isn't He here now, healing us and helping us just the same as ever? Didn't He say He would be? You will see how much better I shall be to-night.”
Dr. Ballard met the heavy eyes with his own kind, clear ones. “I see you have been taught in new ways, Jewel,” he said seriously, “but you are only a little girl, and while you are in your grandfather's house you ought to do as he wishes. He wishes you to let me prescribe for you. No one who is ill can help making trouble. You have no right not to try to get well in the way Mr. Evringham and Mrs. Forbes wish you to.”
Jewel felt herself in a desperate position. The corners of her lips twitched down. Dr. Ballard thought he saw his advantage, and leaned his fine head toward her. She impulsively threw her arms around his neck.
“You don't want to hurt my feelings, Jewel,” he said. She was crying softly.
“No—it would make me—very—sorry, but it would be—worse—to hurt—God's. Please don't make me, please, please don't make me, Dr. Ballard!”
She was increasingly excited, and he feared the effect.
“Very well then, Jewel,” he returned. “I don't want to do you more harm than good.”
“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed fervently, through her tears.
“But Mrs. Forbes must think you have the medicine. You haven't told her that you are—ahem—a Christian Scientist. I suppose that is what you call yourself.”
“Yes, sir. A Christian Scientist. Oh, you're the kindest man,” pursued the relieved child. “I realized in my prayer that you didn't know it was wrong to believe in material medica, for you reflect love all the time.”
While she was talking and wiping her eyes the doctor took the pitcher and one of the glasses to the window, and stood with his back to her.
“Now then,” he said, returning, “we'll put this half glass of water on the table. I put the spoon across it so, and when Mrs. Forbes is next in the room you take a couple of spoonfuls and that will satisfy her. You may tell her that I wanted you only to take it about four times during the day. If you are better when I come back this evening, I will not insist upon your taking any pellets on your tongue. Here is the other glass for you to drink from.”
With a few more kind words Dr. Ballard took his departure, and going downstairs met Mrs. Forbes. “The little girl has a heavy feverish cold. She understands how to take her medicine. She will probably sleep a good deal. Let her be quiet.”
He went on to the study, where Mr. Evringham was waiting, sitting at the desk, his head on his hand, frowning at the yellow chicken. He looked up expectantly as the doctor entered.
“Well?” he asked.
Dr. Ballard came forward and seated himself in a neighboring chair.
“Do you know what you have upstairs there?” he asked in a low tone.
“For heaven's sake, Guy, don't tell me it's something serious—something infectious!” Mr. Evringham turned pale.
The doctor's sudden smile was reassuring. “It does seem to be infectious to some degree,” he returned, “but I don't believe you'll catch it.”
“What are you grinning at, boy?” asked the broker sharply.
“Don't be alarmed, Mr. Evringham, but the fact is, that you have in your house a small and young but perfectly formed and well-developed specimen of a Christian Scientist.”
“What, man!” The broker grew red again.
Dr. Ballard nodded deliberately. “Your little granddaughter belongs to the new cult; and I can assure you she is dyed in the wool, and moreover is all wool and a yard wide.”
“The devil you say!” ejaculated Mr. Evringham. “But,” he added with a sudden thought, “that may be a part of the poor child's feverish nonsense. She was full of talk of castles and giantesses and fairies and what not when I was up there.”
“Yes. She is no flightier than you are this minute. All these titles are those she has given to your house and household in the last two days, and according to her diagnosis, it is that indulgence from which she is suffering now, and not from too much brook. She says she has 'voiced error.'”
The doctor looked quizzically at his friend, who returned his gaze, nonplussed.
“That's it—'error,'” rejoined Mr. Evringham, “that's what she is often saying. This explains her vocabulary, in all probability. She has sometimes the strangest talk you ever listened to. Well, that's the mother's doing, of course, and not the child's fault. I maintain it is not the child's fault. With it all, Ballard, I tell you she's a very well meaning child—a rather winning child, in fact. Good natured disposition. I hope she's not very ill. I do, indeed. Ha! That, then, is why she was so excited at the thought of having a doctor. Tomfoolery!”
“Yes, that was it. We've had some argument.” The young doctor smiled. “She doesn't consider me hopeless, however. She told me that she had mentioned to the Lord that she was sure I didn't know it was wrong to believe in materia medica.”
No one for years had heard Mr. Evringham laugh as he laughed at this. The doctor joined him.
“I'm not surprised,” said the broker at last. “If there is anything she does not mention to her Creator, I have yet to learn what it is. How did you get around her, Ballard?”
“Oh, I used a little justifiable hocus-pocus about the medicine. That's all.”
“And you think it's not anything very serious, then?”
“I think not. Where there's so much temperature it is a little hard to tell at first with a child. This evening I shall make a more thorough examination. The ice is broken now, and it will be easier. She will be less excited. I see,” glancing at the yellow chicken, whose beady eyes appeared to be following the conversation, “the little girl has found her way even into this sanctum.”
Mr. Evringham cleared his throat as he followed the doctor's glance. “No,” he responded shortly. “She has not found her way in here yet. That is—my chicken. She bought it for me.”
Dr. Ballard lifted his eyebrows and smiled as he arose.
“Come back before dinner if possible, Ballard. I shall be uneasy.”