A MORNING RIDE
Mrs. Evringham's listeners thanked her, then discussed the story a few minutes.
"I'd like to get acquainted with Alma," said Jewel, "and help be kind to her."
"Oh, she's going to have a very good time now," replied Mr. Evringham. "One can see that with half an eye. Were there any Almas where you went to school, Jewel?"
"No, there weren't. We didn't bring lunches and we went home in a 'bus."
"Jewel went to a very nice private school," said Mrs. Evringham. "Her teachers were Christian Scientists and I made their dresses for them in payment."
The logs were red in the fireplace now, and the roar of the wind-driven sea came from the beach.
"Well, we've a good school for her," replied Mr. Evringham, "and there'll be no dresses to make either."
His daughter looked at him wistfully. "I'm very happy when I think of it," she answered, "for there is other work I would rather do."
"I should think so, indeed. Catering to the whims of a lot of silly women who don't know their own minds! It must be the very—yes, very unpleasant. Yes, we have a fine school in Bel-Air. Jewel, we're going to work you hard next winter. How shall you like that?"
"My music lessons will be the most fun," returned Jewel.
"And dancing school beside."
"Oh, grandpa, I'll love that! I used to know girls who went, in Chicago."
"Yes, I'm sure you will. You shall learn all the latest jigs and flings, too, that any of the children know. I think you ought to learn them quickly. You've been hopping up and down ever since I knew you."
Jewel exchanged a happy glance with her mother and clapped her hands at the joyful prospect.
Mrs. Evringham looked wistfully at her father-in-law. "I hope you'll be willing I should do the work I want to, father."
"What's that? Writing books? Perfectly willing, I assure you. I think you've made a very good start."
Mrs. Evringham smiled. "No, not writing books. Practicing Christian Science."
"Well, you do that all the time, don't you?"
"I mean taking patients."
"What!" Mr. Evringham straightened up in his chair and frowned at her incredulously. "Anybody? Tom, Dick, and Harry? You can't mean it!"
His tone was so severe that Jewel rose from her place on the rug and, climbing into his lap, rested her head on his breast. His hand closed on the soft little one unconsciously. "I suppose I don't understand you," he added, a shade more mildly.
"Not in your house, father," returned Julia. She had been preparing in thought for this moment for days. "Of course it wouldn't do to have strangers coming and going there."
"Nonsense, nonsense, my dear girl," brusquely, "put it out of your head at once. There is no need for you to do anything after this but bring up your child and keep your husband's shirt buttons in place."
"I won't neglect either," replied Julia quietly; "but Mr. Reeves says there is great need of practitioners in Bel-Air. You know where the reading-room is? There is a little room leading out of it that I could have."
"For an office, do you mean? Nonsense," exclaimed Mr. Evringham again. "Harry wouldn't think of allowing it."
Julia smiled. "Will you if he does?"
"What shall I say to her, Jewel?" The broker looked down into the serious face.
"I suppose mother ought to do it," replied the child. "Of course every one who knows how and has time wants to. You can see that, grandpa, because isn't your rheumatism better?"
"Yes. I like our resident physician very much; but we need her ourselves. I don't think I shall ever give my consent to such a thing."
"Oh, yes, you will, grandpa, if it's right." The flaxen head on his breast wagged wisely. "Some morning you'll come downstairs and say: 'Julia, I think you can go and get that office whenever you like.'"
Mrs. Evringham pressed her handkerchief to her lips. The couple in the armchair were so absorbed in one another that they did not observe her, and the broker's face showed such surprise.
"Upon my word!" he exclaimed, after a minute. "Upon my word!"
"Are you all through talking about that?" asked Jewel, after a pause.
"I am, certainly," replied Mr. Evringham.
"And I," added his daughter. She was content that the seed was planted, and preferred not to press the subject.
"Well, then," continued Jewel, "I was wondering, grandpa, if the cracks in that boat couldn't be stuffed up a little more so I wouldn't have to bail, and then I could learn how to row."
"Ho, these little hands row!" returned Mr. Evringham scoffingly.
"Why, I could, grandpa. I just know I could. It was fun to bail at first, but I'm getting a little tired of it now, and I love to be on the pond—oh, almost as much as on Star!"
Mr. Evringham's eyes shone with an unusually pleased expression. "Is it possible!" he returned. "It's a water-baby we have here, a regular water-baby!"
"Yes, grandpa, when I know how to swim and row and sail—yes," chuckling at the expression of exaggerated surprise which her listener assumed, "and sail, too, I'll be so happy!"
"Oh, come now, an eight-year-old baby!"
"I'll be nine in five weeks, nine years old."
"Well," Mr. Evringham sighed, "that's better than nineteen."
"Why, grandpa," earnestly, "you forget; perhaps you'll like me when I'm grown up."
"It's possible," returned the broker.
How the sun shone the next morning! The foam on the great rollers that still stormed the beach showed from the farmhouse windows in ever-changing, spreading masses of white. Essex Maid and Star, after a day of ennui, were more than ready for a scamper between the rolling fields where already the goldenrod hinted that summer was passing.
Star had to stretch his pretty legs at a great rate, to keep up with the Maid this morning, though her master moderated her transports. The more like birds they flew, the more Jewel enjoyed it. She knew now how to get Star's best speed, and the pony scarcely felt her weight, so lightly did she adapt herself to his every motion.
With cheeks tingling in the fine salt air, the riders finally came to a walk in the quiet country road.
"I've been looking up that boat business, Jewel," said Mr. Evringham. "The thing is hardly worth fixing. It would take a good while, just at the time we want the boat, too."
"Well, then," returned the child, "we'll have to make it do. There are so many happinesses here, it isn't any matter if the boat isn't just right; but I was thinking, grandpa, if you wouldn't wear such nice shoes, I'd go barefooted, and then we could both sit on the same seat and let the water come in, while I use one oar and you the other; or"—her face suddenly glowing with a brilliant idea—"we could both wear our bathing-suits!"
"Yes," returned the broker, "I think if you were to row we might need them."
The child laughed.
"No, Jewel, no; we'd better bathe when we bathe, and row when we row, and not mix them. You couldn't do anything with even one of those clumsy oars in that tub of a boat."
As Mr. Evringham said this, he saw the disappointment in the little girl's face as she looked straight ahead, and noted, too, her effort to conquer it.
"Well, I do have so many happinesses," she replied.
"It will be a grand sight at the beach this morning, with the sunlight on the stormy waves," said Mr. Evringham. "The water-baby will have to keep out of them, though."
Jewel lifted her shoulders and looked at him. "Then we ought to row over, don't you think so?"
"You're not willing to be a thorough-going land lubber, are you?" returned the broker.
"No," Jewel sighed. "I'd rather bail than keep off the pond. Oh, but I forgot," with a sudden thought, "mother'd get wet if she rowed over and it would be too bad to make her walk through the fields alone."
There was a little silence and then Mr. Evringham turned the horses into the homeward way.
"I begin to feel as if breakfast would be acceptable, Jewel. How is it with you?"
"Why, I could eat"—began the child hungrily, "I could eat"—
"Eggs?" suggested the broker, as she paused to think of something sufficiently inedible.
"Almost," returned the child seriously. Another pause, and then she continued. "Grandpa, wouldn't it be nice if mother had somebody to play with, too, so we could go out in the boat whenever we wanted to?"
"Yes. Why doesn't your father hurry up his affairs?"
Jewel looked at the broker. "He has. He thought it was error for him not to let the people there know that he was going to leave them after a while; so they began right off to try to find somebody else, and they have already."
"Eh?" asked the broker. "Your father is through in Chicago, then? When did you hear that?"
"Mother had the letter yesterday and she told me when I went to bed last night."
"Why, then he'll be coming right on."
"We'd like to have him," returned Jewel; "but mother wasn't sure how you would feel about it, to have father here so long before business commences."
"Why didn't she tell me last evening?" asked Mr. Evringham.
"I think," returned Jewel, "that she wanted father so much—and—and that she thought perhaps you wouldn't think it was best, and—well, I think she felt a little bashful. You know mother isn't your real relation, grandpa," the child's head fell to one side apologetically.
Mr. Evringham stroked his mustache; but instantly he turned grave again. His eyes met Jewel's.
"I think, as you say, it would be rather a convenience to us if your mother had some one to play with, too. Suppose we send for him, eh?"
"Oh, let's," cried the child joyfully.
"Done with you!" returned the broker, and he gave the rein to Essex Maid. Star had suddenly so much ado to gallop along beside her, that Jewel's laugh rang out merrily.
When, a little later, the family met in the dining-room for breakfast, Mr. Evringham accosted his daughter cheerfully:
"Well, this is good news I hear about Harry."
Julia flushed and met his eyes wistfully. The broker had never seen any resemblance in Jewel to her until this moment; but it was precisely the child's expression that now returned his look.
"It's my boy she wants, too," he thought. "By George, she shall have him."
"I wasn't sure that you would think it was good news for Harry to give up his position so soon, but there wasn't any other honest way," she replied.
"The sooner the break is made, the better," returned Mr. Evringham. "I shall wire him to close up everything at once and join us as soon as he can."
Mother and child exchanged a happy look and Jewel clapped her hands. "Father's coming, father's coming!" she cried joyfully.
The broker bent his brows upon her.
"Jewel, are you strictly honorable?" he asked.
"I don't know," returned the little girl.
"You said a few minutes ago that it was a playfellow for your mother that you wanted. Your enthusiasm is unseemly."
"Oh, father's just splendid," said Jewel.
After breakfast the three repaired to a certain covered piazza where they always read the lesson for the day; then Mr. Evringham suggested that they go promptly to the beach to see the splendid show before the rollers regained their usual monotonous dignity.
"Jewel and I thought we would go over in the boat instead of through the fields, but that old tub is rather uninviting for a lady's clothes."
"I think I will take the solitary saunter in preference," returned Mrs. Evringham. "You and Jewel row over if you like."
"No, we'd rather walk with you," said the child heroically.
Julia smiled. "I don't want you. There are birds and flowers."
"Well, come down and see us off, anyway," said Mr. Evringham; so the three moved over the grass toward the pond; two walking sedately and one skipping from sheer high spirits.
As they drew near the little wharf the child's quick eyes perceived that there were two boats floating there, one each side of it.
"See that, grandpa! There's some visitor around here," she said, running ahead of the others. A light, graceful boat rose and fell on the waves. It was golden brown within and without, and highly varnished. Its four seats were furnished with wine-colored cushions. Four slim oars lay along its bottom, and its rowlocks gleamed. Best of all, a slender mast with snowy sail furled about it lay along the edge.
"Grandpa, p-lease ask somebody whose it is and if we could get in just a minute!" begged Jewel, in hushed excitement.
"Oh, they're all good neighbors about here. They won't mind, whoever it is," returned Mr. Evringham carelessly, and to the child's wonder and doubt he jumped aboard.
"Pretty neat outfit, isn't it?" he continued, as he stood a moment looking over the lines of the craft, and then lifted the mast.
"Oh, it'll sail, too, it'll sail, too!" cried Jewel, hopping up and down. "Oh, mother, did you ever hear of such a pretty boat?"
"Never," replied Mrs. Evringham. "It must be that some one has come over from one of those fine homes across the pond."
Privately, she was a little surprised by the manner in which Mr. Evringham was making himself at home. He set the mast in its place and then, his arms akimbo, stood regarding Jewel's tense, sun-browned countenance and sparkling eyes.
"How would it be for me to go up to the house and see if we could get permission to take a little sail?" he asked.
"Oh, it would be splendid, grandpa," responded Jewel, "but—but he might say no, and could I get in just a minute first?"
"Yes, come on." The child waited for no second invitation, but sprang into the boat and examined its dry, shining floor and felt its buttoned cushions with admiring awe.
"Hello, see here," said Mr. Evringham, bending over the further side. "Easy, now," for Jewel had scrambled to see. He trimmed the boat while her flaxen head leaned eagerly over.
Beautifully painted in shining black letters she read the name JEWEL.
The child lifted her head quickly and gazed at him, "Grandpa, that almost couldn't—happen" she said, in amazement, catching her breath.
He nodded. "There's one thing pretty certain, Nature won't draw off the pond now that this has come to you."
"Me, me!" cried the child. Her lips trembled and she turned a little pale under the tan as she remembered how the pony came. Then her eyes, dark with excitement, suffused, and recklessly she flung herself upon the broker's neck while the boat rocked wildly.
Mr. Evringham waved one hand toward his daughter while he seized the mast. "Tell Harry we left our love," he cried.
"Dear me, Jewel, what are you doing!" called Mrs. Evringham.
"It's mine, mother, it's mine," cried the child, lifting her head to shout it, and then ducking back into the broker's silk shirt front.
"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Evringham, coming gingerly out upon the wharf, which was such an unsteady old affair that she had remained on terra firma.
"Why, you see," responded Mr. Evringham, "the farmhouse boat wasn't so impossible for two old sea-dogs like Jewel and me, but when it came to inviting her lady mother to go out with us, I saw that we must have something else. Well, it seems as if Jewel approved of this."
He winked at his daughter over the flaxen head on his breast.
"What a fortunate, fortunate girl!" exclaimed Julia. "I can hardly wait to sit on one of those beautiful red cushions."
"Jewel will invite you pretty soon, I think," said Mr. Evringham. "I hope so, for one of my feet is turned in and she is standing on it, but I wouldn't have her get off until she is entirely ready."
He could feel the child swallowing hard, and though she moved her little feet, she could not lift her face.
"Grandpa," she began, in an unsteady, muffled tone, "I didn't tease you too much about the old boat, did I?"
"No,—no, child!"
"Shall you—shall you like this one, too?"
"Well, I should rather think so. I have to give all my shoes to the poor as it is. I've nothing left fit to put on but my riding-boots. How shall we go over to the beach this time, Jewel, row or sail? Your mother is waiting for you to ask her to get in."
Slowly the big bows behind the child's ears came down into their normal position. She kissed her grandfather fervently and then turned her flushed face and eyes toward her mother.
"Come in, so you can see the boat's name," she said, and her smile shone out like sunshine from an April sky.
"Give me your hand, then, dearie. You know I'm a poor city girl and haven't a very good balance."
The name was duly examined, and Mrs. Evringham's "oh's" of wonder and admiration were long-drawn.
"See the darling cushions, mother. You can wear your best clothes here. It's just like a parlor!"
"A very narrow parlor, Jewel. Move carefully." Mrs. Evringham had seated herself in the stern. "Perhaps I can help with the rudder," she added, taking hold of the lines.
"Just as the admiral says," returned the broker.
"Oh, grandpa, you'll have to be the admiral," said Jewel excitedly. "I'll be the crew and"—
"And the owner," suggested Mr. Evringham.
"Yes! Oh, mother, what will father say!"
"He'll say that you are a very happy, fortunate little girl, and that Divine Love is always showing your grandpa how to do kind things for you."
The child's expression as she looked up at the admiral made him apprehend another rush.
"Steady, Jewel, steady. Remember we aren't wearing our bathing-suits. Which are we going to do, row or sail?"
"Oh, sail," cried the child, "and it'll never be the first time again! Could you wait while I get Anna Belle?"
"Certainly."
Like a flash Jewel sprang from the boat and fled up the wharf and lawn.
Mr. Evringham smiled and shook his head at his daughter. "A creature of fire and dew," he said.
"I don't know how to thank you for all your goodness to her," said Julia simply.
"It would offend me to be thanked for anything I did for Jewel," he returned.
"I understand. She is your own flesh and blood. But what I feel chiefly grateful for is the wisdom of your kindness. I believe you will never spoil her. I should rather we had remained poor and struggling than to have that."
Mr. Evringham gave the speaker a direct look in which appeared a trace of humor.
"I think I am slightly inclined," he returned, "to overlook the fact that you and Harry have any rights in Jewel which should be respected; but theoretically I do acknowledge them, and it is going to be my study not to spoil her. I have an idea that we couldn't," he added.
"Oh, yes, we could," returned Julia, "very easily."
"Well, there aren't quite enough of us to try," said the broker. "I believe while we're waiting for Jewel, I'll just step up to the house and get some one to send that telegram to Harry."
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Julia eagerly; and in a minute she was left alone, swaying up and down on the lapping water, in the salt, sunny breeze, while the JEWEL pulled at the mooring as if eager to try its snowy wings; and happy were the grateful, prayerful thoughts that swelled her heart.