Jewel's Story Book Part 6

"H'm, I'm glad you've been so happy." Sincere feeling vibrated in the speaker's voice. "We don't know how to thank your grandpa, do we?"

A street lamp showed Jewel, as she turned and smiled up into the impa.s.sive face Mr. Evringham turned upon her.

"You can safely leave that to her," said the broker briefly, but he did not remove his eyes from the upturned ones.

"It is beyond me," thought Mrs. Evringham; "but love is a miracle-worker."

The glowing lights of the ferry pa.s.sed, Jewel did go to sleep in the train.

Her father, unaware that he was trespa.s.sing, took her in his arms, and, tired out with all the excitement of the day and the lateness of the hour, the child instantly became unconscious; but by the time they reached home, the bustle of arrival and her interest in showing her parents about, aided her in waking to the situation.

Mrs. Forbes stood ready to welcome the party. Ten years had pa.s.sed since Harry Evringham had stood in the home of his boyhood, and the housekeeper thought she perceived that he was moved by a contrite memory; but he spoke with bluff heartiness as he shook hands with her; and Mrs. Forbes looked with eager curiosity into the sweet face of Mrs. Evringham, as the latter greeted her and said something grateful concerning the housekeeper's kindness to Jewel.

"It's very little you have to thank me for, ma'am," replied Mrs. Forbes, charmed at once by the soft gaze of the dark eyes.

The little cavalcade moved upstairs to the handsome rooms so lately vacated. They were brilliant with light and fragrant with roses.

"How beautiful!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham, while Jewel hopped up and down, as wide awake as any little girl in town, delighted with the gala appearance of everything.

Mr. Evringham looked critically into the face of his daughter-in-law. Here was the woman to whom he owed Jewel, and all that she was and all that she had taught him. Her face was what he might have expected. It looked very charming now as the pretty eyes met his. She was well-dressed, too, and Mr.

Evringham liked that.

"I hope you will be very much at home here, Julia," he said; and though he did not smile, it was certain that, whether from a sense of duty or not, he had taken pains to make their welcome a pleasant one.

Jewel had, evidently, no slightest fear of his cold reserve. With the child's hand in hers, Julia took courage to reply warmly: "Thank you, father, it is a joy to be here."

She had called him "father," this elegant stranger, and her heart beat a little faster, but her husband's arm went around her.

"America's all right, eh, Julia?"

"Come in cousin Eloise's room," cried Jewel. "That's all lighted, too. Are they going to have them both, grandpa?"

She danced ahead, through a s.p.a.cious white-tiled bathroom and into the adjoining apartment. There an unexpected sight met the child's eyes. In the rosy depths of a large chintz chair sat Anna Belle, loyally keeping her eyes open in spite of the hour.

Jewel rushed toward her. There were plenty of flowers scattered about in this room, also, and the child suddenly caught sight of her own toilet articles on the dresser.

"My things are down here in cousin Eloise's room, grandpa!" she cried, so surprised that she delayed picking up her doll.

"Why, why!" said Mr. Evringham, throwing open the door of the large closet and then opening a bureau drawer. Within both receptacles were Jewel's belongings, neatly arranged. "This is odd!" he added.

"Grandpa, grandpa!" cried the child, rus.h.i.+ng at him and clasping her arms around his waist. "You're going to let me sleep down here by father and mother!"

Mr. Evringham regarded her unsmilingly. Jewel's parents both looked on, more than half expecting a snub to meet the energetic onslaught. "You won't object, will you?" he asked.

Jewel pulled him down and whispered something in his ear. The curious on-lookers saw the sweeping mustache curve in a smile as he straightened up again. As a matter of fact they were both curious to know what she had said to him.

"You're whispering in company, Jewel," remarked her father.

"Oh, please excuse me!" said the child. "I forgot to remember. Here's Anna Belle, father."

"My, my, my!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Harry Evringham, coming forward. "How that child has grown!"

CHAPTER IV

ON THE VERANDA

What a luxurious, happy, sleepy time Jewel had that night in the pretty rose-bower where her mother undressed her while her father and grandfather went back downstairs.

It was very sweet to be helped and cuddled as if she were again a baby, and as she lay in bed and watched her mother setting the flowers in the bathroom and arranging everything, she tried to talk to her on some of the subjects that were uppermost in her mind. Mrs. Evringham came at last and lay down beside her. Jewel nestled into the loving arms and kissed her cheek.

"I'm too happy to go to sleep," she declared, then sighed, and instantly pretty room and pretty mother had disappeared.

Mrs. Evringham lay there on the luxurious bed, the sleeping child in her arms, and her thoughts were rich with grat.i.tude. Her life had never been free from care: first as a young girl in her widowed mother's home, then as wife of the easy-going and unprincipled youth, whose desertion of her and her baby had filled her cup of bitterness, though she bravely struggled on.

Her mother had died; and soon afterward the light of Christian Science had dawned upon her path. Strengthened by its support, she had grown into new health and courage, and life was beginning to blossom for her when her repentant husband returned.

For a time his wayward habits were a care to her; but he was sincerely ashamed of himself, and the discovery of the development of character in the pretty girl whom he had left six years before roused his manhood. To her joy he began to take an interest in the faith which had wrought such changes in her, and after that she had no doubts of the outcome. From the moment when she obtained for him a business position, it became his ambition to take his rightful place in the world and to guard her from rough contact, and though as yet he still leaned upon her judgment, and she knew herself to be the earthly mainspring of all their business affairs, she knew, also, that his desire was right, and the knowledge sweetened her days.

Here in this home which was, to her unaccustomed eyes, palatial in its appointments, with her child again in her arms, she gave thanks for the joy of the present hour. A day or two of pleasure in these surroundings, and then she and Harry would relieve Mr. Evringham of the care they had imposed upon him.

He had borne it n.o.bly, there was no doubt about that. He had even complicated existence by giving Jewel a pony. How a pony would fit into the frugal, busy life of the Chicago apartment, Julia did not know; but her child's dearest wish had been gratified, and there was nothing to do but appreciate and enjoy the fact. After all, Harry's father must have more paternal affection than her husband had ever given him credit for; for even on the most superficial acquaintance one could see that any adaptation of his life and tastes to those of a child would have to come with creaking difficulty to the stock broker, and the fact of Jewel's ease with him told an eloquent story of how far Mr. Evringham must have constrained himself for Harry's sake.

Her thoughts flowed on and had pa.s.sed to business and all that awaited them in Chicago, when her husband rejoined her. She rose from the bed as he came in, and hand in hand they stood and looked down at Jewel, asleep.

Harry stooped and kissed the flushed cheek.

"Don't wake her, dear," said Julia, smiling at the energy of the caress.

"Wake her? I don't believe a clap of thunder would have that effect. Why, she and father have been painting the town; dining at the Waldorf, driving in the park, riding in the swan boats, and then hanging around that dock.

Bless her little heart, I should think she'd sleep for twenty-four hours."

"How wonderfully kind of him!" returned Julia. "You need never tell me again, Harry, that your father doesn't love you."

"Oh, loving hasn't been much in father's line, but we hope it will be,"

returned the young man as he slipped an arm around his wife. "Do you remember the last time we stood watching Jewel asleep? I do. It was in that beastly hotel the night before we sailed."

"Oh, Harry!" Julia buried her face a moment on his shoulder. "Shall you ever forget our relief when her first letter came, showing that she was happy? Do you remember the hornpipe you danced in our lodgings and how you shocked the landlady? Your father may not _call_ it loving, but his care and thoughtfulness have expressed that and he can't help my loving _him_ forever and forever for being kind to Jewel."

Harry gave his head a quick shake. "I'll be hanged if I can see how anybody could be unkind to her," he remarked.

"Oh, well, you've never been an elderly man, set in your ways and used to living alone. I'm sure it meant a great deal to him. Think of his doing all that for her this afternoon."

"Oh, he had to pa.s.s the time somehow, and he couldn't very well refuse to let her come in to meet us. Besides, she's on the eve of going away, and father likes to do the handsome thing. He was doing it for other people, though, when Lawrence and I were kids. He never took us in any swan boats."

"Poor little boys!" murmured Julia.

"Oh, not at all," returned Harry, laughing rather sardonically. "We took ourselves in the swan boats and in a variety of other places not so picturesque. Father's purse strings were always loose, and so long as we kept out of his way he didn't care what we did. Nice old place, this, Julia?"