"I'd like to get acquainted with Alma," said Jewel, "and help be kind to her."
"Oh, she's going to have a very good time now," replied Mr. Evringham. "One can see that with half an eye. Were there any Almas where you went to school, Jewel?"
"No, there weren't. We didn't bring lunches and we went home in a 'bus."
"Jewel went to a very nice private school," said Mrs. Evringham. "Her teachers were Christian Scientists and I made their dresses for them in payment."
The logs were red in the fireplace now, and the roar of the wind-driven sea came from the beach.
"Well, we've a good school for her," replied Mr. Evringham, "and there'll be no dresses to make either."
His daughter looked at him wistfully. "I'm very happy when I think of it," she answered, "for there is other work I would rather do."
"I should think so, indeed. Catering to the whims of a lot of silly women who don't know their own minds! It must be the very—yes, very unpleasant. Yes, we have a fine school in Bel-Air. Jewel, we're going to work you hard next winter. How shall you like that?"
"My music lessons will be the most fun," returned Jewel.
"And dancing school beside."