“If she'd always speak when she's spoken to, and be quiet and modest as she is with me, she'd be a very well-behaved child,” she soliloquized. “I could train her. I shouldn't wonder at all if her mother should see a great difference in her when she comes back.”
The housekeeper went heavily downstairs. Jewel, pushing off the bedclothes, listened attentively to the retiring steps, and when they could no longer be heard, she jumped out of bed nimbly, and feeling for the electric switch, turned on the light. Her breath was coming rather unevenly, and she ran over the soft carpet to where her doll lay. Catching her up, she pressed her to her breast, then sitting down in the big chair, she began to undress her, crossing one little bare foot over the other knee to make a lap.
“Darling Anna Belle, did you think I'd forgotten you?” she asked breathlessly. “Did you think you weren't going to have any one to kiss you good-night? It's hard not to have any one you love kiss you good-night.” Jewel dashed her hand across her eyes quickly, then went swiftly on with her work. “You might have known that I was only waiting until that—that giantess went away. She wouldn't let me bring you down to dinner, dearie, but you didn't miss anything. Poor grandpa, I don't wonder any longer that he doesn't look happy. He has the sorriest people all around him that you ever saw. He lives in a big, beautiful castle, but it's Castle Discord. I named it that at dinner. Nobody loves one another. Of course grandpa loves me, because I'm his own little grandchild, but he's too sorry to show it. The beautiful enchanted maiden, and the Error fairy, and the giantess, are all making discord around him. A little flat is better than a big castle, isn't it? We know a flat—let's call it Harmony Flat, Anna Belle. Perhaps if we're very, very, good, we'll get back there some time.” Jewel suddenly pressed the doll's nightdress against her wet eyes. “Don't, don't, dearie! I know it does seem a year since—since the boat this morning. If all the days were as long as this, we'd be very, very old when father and mother come home.” The soft voice broke in a sob. “I don't know what I should do if you weren't a Christian Scientist, Anna Belle. We'll help each other all we can. Now come—come into bed and say your prayers.”
“Say your—your prayer first, dearie,” she whispered, sobbing:—
“'Father, Mother, God,
Loving me,—
Guard me when I sleep;
Guide my little feet
Up to Thee.'
“Now you'll feel—better, dearie. In a minute you won't be so—homesick for—for—father and mother. Hush, while I say mine.”
Jewel repeated the Lord's Prayer. When she had finished, her breath still caught convulsively, so she continued:—
“Dear Father, Mother, God, loving me, help me to know that I am close to Thee. Help me to remember that things that are unhappy aren't real things. Help me to know that everything is good and harmonious, and that the people in this castle are Thy children, even if they do seem to have eyes like fishes. Help me to love one another, even the giantess, and please show grandpa how to meet error. Please let Dr. Ballard come to see me soon, because he has kind eyes, and I'm sure he doesn't know it's wrong to believe in materia medica. Please take more care of father and mother than anything, and say 'Peace be still' if the wind blows the sea. I know, dear Father in Heaven, that Thou dost not forget anything, but I say it to make me feel better. I am Thy little Jewel, and Anna Belle loves Thee, too. Take us into the everlasting arms of Love while we go to sleep. Amen.”
Jewel brushed away the tears as she ceased, and with her usual quickness of motion, jumped out of bed to get a handkerchief. Turning on the electric light, she went to the chair over which hung the dotted dress. She remembered having slipped a clean handkerchief into its pocket before going to dinner.
In reaching for it her fingers encountered a scrap of paper in the depths of the pocket. She drew it forth. It was folded. She opened it and found it written over in a clear round hand.