Jewel flushed with embarrassment and glanced at her grandfather involuntarily, but he was busy eating and evidently would not help her.
“I'd rather not say,” replied the child at last, and her rejoinder incited her aunt to further merriment.
“Aunt Madge doesn't laugh in a nice way,” thought Jewel. “It's even pleasanter when she looks sorry.”
“What is real then, Jewel?” asked Eloise gravely.
The child flashed upon her a sweet look.
“Everything good and glad,” she answered.
Something rose in the girl's throat, and she pressed her lips together for an instant.
“You are happy to believe that,” she returned.
“Oh, I don't believe it,” replied Jewel. “It's one of the things I know. Mother says we only believe things when we aren't sure about them. Mother knows such a lot of beautiful truth.”
The child looked at her cousin wistfully as she spoke. Eloise could scarcely retain her proud and nonchalant bearing beneath the blue eyes. They seemed to see through to her wretchedness.