“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.”