“Your father is not a Christian Scientist, I presume,” remarked Mr. Evringham.
“Oh yes, he's learning to be. Of course he goes to church—”
“He does, eh?” put in the broker, surprised.
“Of course; and he studies the lesson with us every day. He had been sorry so much and so long, you know, mother said he was all ready; and beside—beside”—Jewel hesitated and became silent.
“Beside what?”
She began very softly and half reluctantly. “Father had a sickness two or three times when he first came home, and he was healed, and so he was very grateful and wanted to know about God.”
“H'm. I'm glad he was. I hope he will make your mother very happy after this.”
“He does.” The child lost her seriousness and laughed reminiscently. “Father and I have the best times. Mothers says he's younger than I am.”
“You miss him, eh?” Mr. Evringham half frowned into the fresh little face.
“Oh yes, I do,” with a sigh, “but it would be error to be sorry when I could come to see you, grandpa.”