Mrs. Evringham welcomed the look on her daughter's face as she made the statement. “Thank fortune Eloise has played herself into good humor,” she thought.
“Indeed? I must hear her sing some time. You're playing unusually well this morning, my dear. I wish Dr. Ballard could have heard you. Come to luncheon.”
The three repaired to the dining-room, where Mrs. Forbes's glance immediately noted the presence of Anna Belle. She took her from Jewel's arms and placed her on a remote corner of the sideboard, in the middle of which glowed the American Beauty roses.
Mrs. Evringham approached them with solicitude.
“They're looking finely, Mrs. Forbes,” she said suavely. “You surely understand the care of roses.” She lifted the silver scissors that hung from her chatelaine and succeeded in severing one of the long stems.
“Here, little girl,” she added, advancing to Eloise, “you need this in your white gown to cheer us up this rainy day.”
The girl shrank and opened her lips to decline, but restrained herself and submitted to have the flower pinned amid her laces.
Jewel gazed at her in open admiration. The glowing color lent a wonderful touch to the girl's beauty. Mrs. Evringham laughed low at the fascinated look in the plain little face, and luncheon began.
To Jewel it differed much from the ones that had preceded it. Mrs. Forbes might hover like a large black cloud, aunt Madge might rail at the weather which cut her off from her afternoon drive, but the morning's experience seemed to have put the child into new relations with all, and Eloise often gave her a friendly glance or smile as the meal progressed.
It was destined to a surprising interruption. In the midst of the discussion of lamb chops and Saratoga chips the door opened, and in walked Dr. Ballard. The shoulders of his becoming raincoat were spangled with drops, his hat was in his hand, a deprecatory smile brightened his face.