The girl turned back to the piano. “Jewel is so modern that she doesn't know the Mendelssohn 'Spring Song,'” she said, and forthwith she began it.
Jewel's head lay back against Dr. Ballard's shoulder, and her eyes never swerved from the white-robed musician.
When the player had finished and been thanked, the child and the doctor exchanged a look of appreciation. “That sounds the way it does in the Ravine of Happiness,” said Jewel.
“Where is that?”
“Where the brook is.”
“Oh!” Dr. Ballard had unpleasant associations with the brook. “I understand you are fond of horses,” he added irrelevantly.
“Oh yes.”
“Do you want to go driving with me to-morrow morning?”
Jewel's face grew radiant.
“Oh yes!” She looked across at her grandfather.