CHAPTER XI
THE GOLDEN DOG
"I think, after all, the ravine is the nicest place for stories," said Jewel the next day.
The sun had dried the soaked grass, and not only did the leaves look freshly polished from their bath, but the swollen brook seemed to be turning joyous little somersaults over its stones when Mrs. Evringham, Jewel, and Anna Belle scrambled down to its bank.
"I don't know that we ought to read a story every day," remarked Mrs. Evringham. "They won't last long at this rate."
"When we finish we'll begin and read them all over again," returned Jewel promptly.
"Oh, that's your plan, is it?" said Mrs. Evringham, laughing.
Jewel laughed too, for sheer happiness, though she saw nothing amusing about such an obviously good plan. "Aren't we getting well acquainted, mother?" she asked, nestling close to her mother's side and forgetting Anna Belle, who at once lurched over, head downward, on the grass. "Do you remember what a little time you used to have to hold me in your lap and hug me?"
"Yes, dearie. Divine Love is giving me so many blessings these days I only pray to bear them well," replied Mrs. Evringham.
"Why, I think it's just as easy to bear blessings, mother," began Jewel, and then she noticed her child's plight. "Darling Anna Belle, what are you doing!" she exclaimed, picking up the doll and brushing her dress. "I shouldn't think you had any more backbone than an error-fairy! Now don't look sorry, dearie, because to-day it's your turn to choose the story."